


Lighter Next To Your Coffee Mug

by Hsin (amoralisch)



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety, Asphyxiation, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Drug Use, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hand Jobs, Light BDSM, M/M, Male Solo, Mental Health Issues, Mutual Masturbation, Past Abuse, Prostitution, Voyeurism, Yes or no
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-09-23 20:34:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 77,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9675110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amoralisch/pseuds/Hsin
Summary: A coincidence, a misunderstanding. Oh, how he hated that word but here it was. A real, fucking undeniable misunderstanding...Neil & Andrew, two men with too many issues, a hooker and a national Exy player, two strangers in an AU where Neil never stopped running and never got the chance to join the team.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Rating will change accordingly in later chapters.  
> Timeline — the story is taking place after the books but Neil never joined the team.

The night was chilly and smelled of rain when Neil skipped the line in front of Eden’s Twilight and clapped one of the bouncers on the shoulder in way of greeting. 

 

„Yo,“ the man, double his  weight and towering one head above him,  said and moved aside to let him in. Neil smiled and greeted some familiar faces on his way in. Cash folded inside his pocket of his black skinny jeans was an assuring reminder of the last hour he had spent at a stranger’s house, doing strange, some might say distasteful things. He pushed the memories into a corner of his mind and guarded them with two imagined clones of the bouncers he had just passed. Those memories had to stay outside tonight. 

 

Neil moved over to the bar and was eyed immediately by strangers and acquaintances alike. A bartender passed him, nodded in an upward motion and Neil gave another smile in response. They knew him here. They knew he was a good customer who tipped well and didn’t talk much. They also knew he came to this bar to order from is favorite bartender. Roland was busy serving customers at the other end of the bar but his colleague was kind enough to take over for him and to let him know that Neil had showed up. 

 

„Well, hello,“ Roland greeted and wiped his hands on a dishtowel. 

 

„Hey,“ Neil replied. 

 

„Long day?“ The barkeeper put his hands on the workspace behind the bar and leaned forward a bit in order to hear the soft-spoken words of his customer nearly drowning in the music. Neil’s eyes had a distant look to them for a moment, as memories tried to bypass his mental bouncers. 

 

„Long day,“ he agreed. It was the needed exchange for them to do business. Roland nodded understandingly. 

 

„The usual then.“ He turned and got busy with Neil’s drink. Neil thanked him and paid double for the added drugs. He took a sip and turned halfway around to look at the crowd on the dance floor. 

 

„Slow night,“ he observed and Roland, now busy stacking some of the washed glasses, nodded. 

 

„Stay a while,“ he told Neil and the younger man glanced back at him, head slightly cocked to one side. Neil usually didn’t stay long, they both knew that and Roland didn’t keep customers around for conversation between serving drinks. The barkeeper was though, the only one around who knew what Neil was doing for a living. 

 

„I might have something,“ Roland said vaguely and then left to serve other customers. A small smile tugged at the corners of Neil’s lips as he glanced down at his drink and gave a little snort. Wasn’t it Roland who always told him to be careful not to do business in Eden’s Twilight? The management had strickt rules when it came to hookers, even those like him. And anyway, Neil came here to relax and forget about his job for a while. Stay a while… well, maybe he would. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Andrew Minyard didn’t need to stand in line at any club. The fame of being an Exy player of a famous team gave him that excuse  — not that he had ever needed one. Two bouncers parted the waiting crowd in front of Eden’s Twilight to let him through. He was greeted but didn’t care. He only acknowledged the faces he knew. People started talking behind is back, recognizing him. He didn’t give a shit. There was so much talk lately, even a normal person would have grown tired of hearing it by now. Andrew hadn’t cared from the start. Across the street, two middle aged men with cameras called his name, trying to get him to turn around for some pictures since they hadn't seen him approach in time. He ignored them. 

 

The club was surprisingly empty tonight. Maybe some big event he had forgotten. It didn’t matter. Roland was behind the bar, looking at him and catching his eye immediately. He nodded and made his way over. 

 

„Glad you came,“ Roland said. 

 

„I said I would,“ Andrew shrugged. 

 

„How is the media treating you?“ To that, Andrew only raised an eyebrow, telling Roland that he should know better than to ask stupid questions. „Right,“ Roland agreed. 

 

Last week, the Exy season had had its first scandal when team captain Kevin Day had been injured during the second game of the season. Though fans and critics alike agreed that it had been a deliberate foul, the attending referees had not deemed it to be an act of misconduct. Kevin had been unable to finish the game and although Andrew had prevented the other team from scoring points, the US national team's offense had been hopelessly outmatched without Kevin. With Andrew being subbed out during the last quarter, they had lost. Rumors disagreed on what had happened after the game. The hard facts were that the player who had injured Kevin had ended up at the hospital, unable to continue the season, maybe missing even the next one and Andrew being suspended for the time being. 

 

„About the other thing we talked about…“ Roland handed Andrew his drink, putting it on the house but accepted the tip. The blond goalkeeper looked up at him questioningly, inviting Roland to go on. „He’s here. Far wall, left of the DJ.“ Andrew turned around lazily, took a sip and scanned the crowd. He liked what he saw; dark hair, slender build, about 5’3, dark clothes that hinted at a nice physique. His smile was fake but that was only befitting his surroundings. Trouble was, Andrew hated that he liked what he saw. He had wanted to be disappointed. 

 

He emptied his glass in two large gulps and put it down on the bar. „Thanks,“ he said and handed Roland a folded bill for his trouble, which the barkeeper accepted. He then turned around and left with one last glance at the stranger across the dance floor. He hated him already. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Four years later than they were supposed to meet in the books, Neil and Andrew meet in this AU. Their first encounter is less violent than you remember but they still have enough problems to works through to last them a life time...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for all the kudos <3 work is a bitch right now, wrecking my sleep schedule... I apologize in advance for all the translation errors, I'm really sorry - I hope I am lucky and find a beta soon. It always takes me a while to get back into writing after such a long break...

Twenty-four-year-old Andrew Minyard left his apartment. Keys in hand, he shrugged to adjust the black coat on his muscular frame. Standing only five feet tall, it was sometimes hard to find clothes he liked. Most designers had taller men in mind for their clothes, even though Andrew had all the right proportions. He checked his phone. Kevin was still at the hospital, doctors fussing over him, trying to save his career. Busted shoulder. He’d live. That was Andrew’s only concern right now. He wouldn’t sit by Kevin’s bedside and hold his hand. He had a girlfriend for that. Tears were for the fans, concern was for their teammates, Andrew was only interested in results. 

 

The elevator doors opened to the underground parking lot and woken by a slight touch on the key, the Maserati announced its presence and greeted him with a flash of light and the sound of unlocking doors. Money well spent. 

 

Andrew got in and started the engine. The car came to life around him and he leaned back in his seat. Second-guessing himself was not his style. He knew this to be the truth. Didn’t mean he was immune to it though. He was about to make a mistake, yet he did nothing to stop himself. Andrew wasn't prone to displaying his emotions on his face. He didn’t roll his eyes as he told himself, once again, that this was a mistake. He shifted the car into gear and left the parking lot. 

 

 

     As expected, he saw the young man he was looking for leaving the old building he lived in, most likely on his way to Eden’s. Andrew didn't want to meet him there, though. They knew him there. To his credit, the young man noticed quickly that someone was following him. Andrew liked that, he had to admit. Too many people were self-absorbed zombies these days, smartphone in hand at all times, headphones reducing the sound of the city to a background murmur. 

 

The young man turned a corner and vanished into a darker side street. Since he had already been noticed, Andrew followed him and stopped the car right next to the young man, rolling his window down halfway. “Hey.” The young man looked at him for the first time. 

 

“What’s your name?” He hated this guy. Everything about him seemed right. Not perfect, just right. The pale skin looked good with his black hair, a nice contrast to Andrews pale on pale, from skin, to his blonde hair and his hazel eyes. Now those eyes looking down at him in his Maserati widened in disbelieve. 

 

 

 

 

 

     Neil had noticed someone following him shortly after he had left his home. A black sports car was following him, keeping a little distance. Neil cursed under his breath, crossed the street and went down into the next back alley. If we made it two streets down, he could shake the car behind the old elementary school there. Maybe the guy had guessed his plan. The car was speeding up until itwas right next to him.

 

“Hey. What’s your name?” Neil didn’t mean to answer. He was about to run and only looked at the guy to see who was following him around. He nearly did a double take. 

 

“Andrew Minyard.” There was awe in Neil’s voice. He did stare now, openly, too shocked to feel ashamed about it. This was Andrew Minyard, his favorite Exy goalkeeper and team member of the national team lead by Kevin Day. Minyard, sitting in his black Maserati, following him in this dirty back alley, asking his name. His mind went into fan mode overdrive and he couldn't stop it from happening. 

 

“No. That’s mine. Thanks for the reminder.” 

 

“Why are you following me?” Suspicion was so hard to shake. He looked around once more –no one else in sight. 

 

“Roland told me about you.” Neil blinked. _Stay a while_ … That had been two weeks ago. He hadn’t asked Roland about it afterwards, assuming that whatever the bartender had been talking about hadn't worked out after all. Was _this_ a business proposal? His mind started to race. 

 

“But what are you doing _here_?” Roland didn’t know where he lived. None of his clients did either. He had made sure of that. 

 

“You think you were hard to find?” Neil hoped so. In fact, his life depended on it. He hadn't survived this long because people could simply look him up online. He avoided social media like the plague, only used his phone to confirm business appointments –that wretched thing. He always turned it off as soon as possible and left it at home when he could. Andrew sighed. He had obviously caught on to his paranoia. 

 

“I followed you. You usually show up at Eden’s.” What the hell? Neil had known that it was risky for him to become predictable. It was a chink in his armor, he knew, but it was a bit of desperately needed stability in his life. He wouldn’t stay in this city forever. He just wanted some familiar faces in his life –the girl at the Italian restaurant he frequented ever so often, the guy at the cash register at the supermarket who didn't give a fuck about customers, Roland at Eden’s… He needed them. 

 

And now this. Andrew Minyard had followed him on his way to Eden’s across town. He could have just waited at the club if he already knew Neil would show up. 

 

“Listen, this is between us. Whatever happens, no one needs to know.” Andrew’s voice brought Neil back to the problem at hand, and he looked at the goalkeeper through the half-open window. _Focus, Neil_ … If this was business, there were only so many scenarios why someone like Minyard would approach him. 

 

One: Andrew Minyard was a closet gay with possible BDSM tendencies which he wanted to explore but keep secret from his fans and teammates. 

 

Two: Andrew Minyard was gay with BDSM tendencies and had chosen Neil, of all people, because he fit his preferences in a partner. 

 

Three: Someone (possibly Roland) was playing a terrible joke on him, using one of his Exy idols and… –absurd. 

 

“You want to be my client,” he asked cautiously. Maybe Andrew realized how cliché this was. Him, driving his black sports car down an empty alley, picking up a prostitute from the streets. This was not how Neil did business and he had half a mind to tell Andrew just that. But the goalkeeper sighed, seemingly annoyed, and got out of the car. He leaned back against it and lit a cigarette, inhaling deeply, giving Neil time to look at him and process the situation. 

 

“Didn’t say that,” he finally said then, voice monotone. “I’m saying we _might_ work something out.” No hint of nervousness or self-consciousness in him. 

 

Neil crossed his arms in front of his chest. This was bad timing. He just had a client, had in fact, spent four hours in a hotel room, fulfilling the fantasies of a middle-aged business man wearing only his tie and dress shirt, while he pretended to be the client’s male assistant named Alex. Alex seemed to be a pampered rich kid with influential parents in real life, cocky to the extreme and an embarrassment in his position on more than one occasion. Or how his client liked to describe it: Alex needed to be bent over and get the spanking his cunt of a mother had never given him… Over the desk, over the knee, at the coffee machine, he somehow couldn't manage to convince to produce a decent cappuccino, even though it only took the press of one fucking button… And then Alex would put his dirty mouth to good use for once in his life. 

 

Neil had done all that and then some. It was an ongoing scene they had revisited over weeks now with changing locations. His client took his time working his way through it, and Neil had his Alex act perfected by now. Afterwards, he had gone home, undressed methodically and had taken a shower. He had made sure his hair didn't need to be re-dyed yet, that his barely visible auburn roots escaped notice. He had made sure he had enough colored contact lenses left. Alex had green eyes, Christian had brown eyes and Nathaniel –Neil –had icy blue ones. 

 

He had left Alex in that small bathroom behind and had changed into new clothes that were more to Nathaniel’s liking. They were nothing special but he would blend in at Eden’s later that night well enough. But he had not gotten to Eden’s this time. Too bad. He had liked to be no-name-well-tipping-customer-ordering-Roland’s-specials for a little while tonight. 

 

“I see,” he said instead. “Maybe we could,” he agreed. Andrew, still looking at him, took another drag from his cigarette. 

 

“Walk me through it then,” Andrew offered.

 

“This is business,” Neil elaborated. “There are rules.”

 

“Business,” Andrew agreed, glad they were on the same page here. 

 

“The price depends on what you want me to do. It’s not a matter of time per se.” He shrugged. “There are limits, of course. We both have busy lives.” Andrew seemed content to just listen for now, so he went on, “For you it’s straight forward. You tell me what you want, in as much detail as necessary. I mean that. Chances are, I’ve heard it all before, so no need to act coy. It only complicates matters.” Somehow, he couldn’t imagine Andrew being shy about anything, but he said it anyway. It was his usual speech, and he had seen men who had acted all cocky and then clam up before. 

 

“I’ll agree to it or I won’t. I’ll tell you what I won’t do and there is no need to ask me why. I won’t tell you. We might agree on an alternative but you won’t convince me to do something that’s beyond my limits. Just like I will respect your limits. This is based on trust and if one of us can’t respect the rules we’d agreed on, the deal is off. Works for you?” 

 

Andrew looked sideways for a moment, as if to think about it. His gaze found Neil’s once more before he agreed, “Works for me.” 

 

“You can ask me anything. I’m sure this isn’t your usual thing.” It was just another of his lines. In fact, he wasn’t sure at all what was or wasn’t Andrew Minyard’s thing. 

 

“It isn’t,” Andrew said, not that Neil believed it to be true or false. Most strangers would say that. It was expected of them. Only the ones already sure in their role and used to doing this kind of thing would correct him at this point. Those were the easy ones. 

 

“Any questions then? So far, I mean.” 

 

“Yes. Can we do this some place else?” Neil was suddenly aware that people had noticed them –or Andrew’s Maserati more likely –and had stopped down the street to watch them. He could see one young women fumbling for her phone. He had no desire to end up on pictures or videos. 

 

“Yes,” he agreed, suddenly very eager to get away from here. He had instinctively turned away from the onlookers, but kept glancing back over his shoulder, even though he told himself not to. They were too far away to get a decent shot of them. This wasn’t good. This was a bad idea. Andrew Minyard meant publicity, it meant fans and a lot of attention. This was against his rules. 

 

“Get in,” Andrew told him. He was already in the driver’s seat. Neil hadn’t seen him move, too absorbed in his own rising fears. Dangerous, his mind told him in a almost sing-song voice. He tsked to himself annoyed and got in the car. Andrew’s foot hit the gas and the car lurched forward. Two of the onlookers barely got out of their way, too busy taking shots and videos of the black car. Andrew didn’t even spare them a glance in the rearview mirror. 

 

Well shit, why the hell had he gotten into the car? Did you call that a leap of faith or a lapse of judgement? 

 

 

 

     They ended up in an empty parking lot of a hardware store. Andrew had gotten out of the car and Neil had followed him. The goalkeeper lit another cigarette and leaned back against his car, while Neil claimed a piece of concrete wall to sit on, leaving three paces between them. 

 

 

“If we do this,” Andrew began, “it won’t be a one time thing.”

 

“I got no problem with that,” Neil agreed. He knew Andrew could afford to keep him around for quite some time if he wanted. 

 

“So how does that work? Do I pay you extra to keep you _available_?” Neil’s lips twisted into a lopsided grin. Available… Nope, Andrew really didn't do these kinds of things. And even if he didn't show it, maybe Andrew Minyard was a little nervous about the whole thing. 

 

“No. We make appointments. I got other clients too.” 

 

“I don’t share my things.” _Arrogant bastard_ , was what Neil’s mind supplied him with in response to that, but he kept it for another time.

 

“I’m neither a thing nor yours. So we should have no problem.” His phone rang and Neal pulled it out of his pocket with some resentment. “Sorry, I have to take this,” he excused himself and answered his phone. 

 

“Hallo? –Ja, ich habe es bekommen.” Neil stood up and paced a little, glancing sideways at Andrew, but the goalkeeper didn’t seem to care that Neil wanted to exclude him by switching to another language. Neil listened for a moment, then sighed. “Es ist sin sehr großzügiges Angebot. Aber ich muss leider ablehnen. –Nein. Auf keinen Fall. Keine Feuerspiele. –Es bleibt dabei. –Okay.”¹ And he hung up. 

 

“Client?” Andrew asked disinterestedly. 

 

“No, landlord,” Neil scoffed. Who else would call him? And Andrew would better not expect him to discuss other clients with him. 

 

“Your landlord wants to burn you?” Andrew sounded amused. A sharp grin twisted his lips upwards on one side. It looked even harsher in the artificial light of the parking lot. 

 

“You speak German?” Stupid question, Andrew had just proven that he did. He didn’t grace Neil with an answer. Neil cleared his throat. “Anyway –maybe we should move on? Since you heard that, I don’t do fire play. No extensive blood play, I don’t like cutting. Nothing that leaves permanent marks. No other people included in the scenes. This stays between us. –Also, I don’t do videos or pictures.” 

 

Andrew took all of that in. The last part seemed a bit odd. He didn’t ask. He would find out eventually what made Neil tick. He waited a moment, then said, “I think you’ve got the wrong idea. I’m not here to hurt you. That’s not my thing.” Neil frowned.

 

“But you knew what people pay me for.” Andrew nodded. “Then what…” 

 

“I came to you because I _might_ hurt you. I have –issues.” 

 

“Because of what happened with your cousin.” It had been on the news, and after Andrew had joined the national team, the media had dug the story back up. Andrew Minyard had nearly killed four people after they had attacked his cousin Nicky. 

 

“ _That_ among other things.” Andrew let it sink in. He kept his distance and waited, looking for signs that Neil wanted to call it off and leave. 

 

“You went on medication back then.” Neil remembered the details.

 

“I did,” the goalkeeper confirmed. He left out the part where he went off his medication to play games. 

 

“Do you still take them?” He had a right to know. Neil was no stranger to drugs, and he wouldn't tell anyone what they should or shouldn't do, but he had a right to know what they took when they were with him, doing things to him, things they wouldn't do sober. 

 

“Self-medicate.” So, drugs then. 

 

“Okay…” Neil said to acknowledge the fact, neither approving nor disapproving of it. He was still a little bewildered. “Might hurt me how?” His brows furrowed and he leaned back against the wall. 

 

Andrew shrugged. “I black out sometimes. People have told me I’ve attacked them when they tried to wake me up. I also–“ His shoulders and back were tense, and Neil could see that Andrew didn't like to talk about this. But he would have to. He said nothing, left the space between them empty for Andrew to fill it with more information and waited for the goalkeeper to continue. “I also don’t have much of experience with…” He made a circular gesture with his hand that included both Neil and himself. “this. Sex. I don’t know how I might react if you push me too far.” 

 

And Andrew knew that ‘too far’ was always so close in his case. He was twenty four and didn't have –couldn’t have –a single physical relationship so far. If he did nothing, if he went on like this, he would never be able to. 

 

“I wouldn't push you. If we’d agree on something, I’d respect that. That’s how this works.”

 

“You keep saying that,” Andrew scoffed. _Like it’s easy_ … “but I’d be the one hurting you. _I_ would break those agreements.”

 

“Only if I’d trigger you. Right? So it would still be my fault.” Oh, how Andrew hated this. How he hated that Neil came up with these answers, as if it was okay to do this. As if he wanted to try. As if this could work. 

 

“I’d have to ask you every single step of the way if you would be okay to do something. And you’d _have to_ tell me.” That certainly would make things awkward. Andrew couldn't imagine anyone in a relationship doing this. –But this wasn't a relationship. That was the whole point. He could mess this up because he would be paying for it. 

 

“Works for me,” Neil agreed. 

 

“And you’d have to ask me.” 

 

“I get that.” He kind of did, Andrew thought. Not all of it. How could he? He didn’t know what it was like. 

 

If they did this, he would have to find out. He’d like to find out, Neil realized. This was Andrew Minyard. He had followed his and Kevin’s careers almost religiously. This might not last, this might end sooner than he’d like to –or not. But when was the last time he had really wanted to do something? He lost track of the things he _didn't_ want to do but have to. Wasn’t it worth a try? 

 

Andrew crushed the cigarette below his shoe. He sounded annoyed when he asked, “So, what should I call you? You never told me your name.”

 

“Whatever you like,” Neil shrugged and wondered if this would add another personality to his collection. Andrew just stared at him and said nothing. The silence dragged on between them for another minute or so. It was Neil who caved first. 

 

“Neil,” he sighed. “You can call me Neil.” Andrew nodded. He stood there with his arms crossed. Even his ankles were crossed while he used his car for support at his back. No, Neil thought, Andrew didn't like the situation at all. Maybe he regretted coming here tonight already. Time to make sure.

 

“So, Andrew, –do you want to do this? Yes or no?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> –what Neil says in German:  
> ¹“Hello? –Yes, I got it. It’s a very generous offer but unfortunately I have to decline. –No. Definitely not. No fire play. –Agreed. –Okay.”
> 
>  
> 
> ♠︎ ♠︎ ♠︎  
> where does this story go? Imagine Andrew had never met Neil... I seriously doubt that he would have been able to have a relationship. We love him because of his issues. Andrew is and will ever be my favorite character of the series.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> getting to know you... not what I expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooh, thanks for sticking around and love you so much for the kudos and kind comments! <3

“So where do you usually go?” Andrew was sitting behind the wheel again, driving them back into the city. The red glow of the car’s instruments illuminated his face. Neil had retreated into his own thoughts, analyzing the situation he had gotten himself into one more time. He wasn't entirelyunpleased by the outcome, and the ride in Andrew’s car helped him to think. The leather seats felt nice against his back. Now Andrew’s voice brought him back. “For business.”

 

“It depends. Some clients have rather specific things in mind. The location matters to them. If that isn't an issue,” Neil shrugged, “hotels, apartments sometimes.” 

 

“But not yours,” Andrew said and it wasn't really a question. 

 

“No.” 

 

“So, since we are doing this, how–“ The lights right in front of them were about to turn red and Andrew stepped on the gas pedal. Neil had the pleasant feeling of goosebumps rising on his arms. The car had a great sound and enough horse power to leave an impression. _Perfect for Andrew Minyard_ , he thought.

 

“I’d say you give me your number and I’ll contact you tomorrow for the details.” He really didn't want to do this tonight. He usually didn't even take clients on the next day after a long scene, if he could help it. “Works for you?”

 

“Yes.” It would also give Andrew time to change his mind, but if so, Neil told himself not to waste any regrets on it. 

 

“Alright. Tell me,” Neil said and Andrew waited for him to pull his phone out, and glanced at him sideways when he didn’t. “Go ahead.” The stupid thing had died on him. It had been begging for a recharge, and he hadn't been especially sorry when it finally gave up and shut down. Andrew gave him his number and waited a moment.

 

“Think you can remember that?” Neil nodded. He was good with numbers. Numbers were easy and he could commit them to memory far easier than other things. 

 

“You can let me out there,” Neil said and pointed at the next corner. 

 

 

 

 

 

Andrew hadn't been sure if Neil would actually call him the next day. He felt neither surprise nor excitement when the call came. Excitement wasn't overrated in his opinion, it was just hard to obtain. For him at least. Some people could get excited about almost anything –a new game, the movie they had seen last night, food, their favorite team winning –Andrew didn't get it. He couldn't imagine what that must be like. 

 

Neil had asked him where he wanted to meet tonight. They had some details left to discuss before anything would happen. They could have met at a bar, but Andrew knew what kind of attention he would get if someone spotted him in public. He thought Neil might not appreciate that, and even if he didn't particularly care about what may or may not be to Neil’s liking, it could scare the man off. 

 

Andrew Minyard’s address was no secret. Getting up to his apartment though was not so easy. They should be fine there. They agreed to meet at eight, and that was that. He had other things to take care of before that. He’d have to get Kevin from the hospital and drive him to a team meeting. Their season was over, but that didn't mean they had nothing to do. Andrew might be suspended, but that didn't mean he was excused from practice. And Allison had another of those sponsorship deals, she was so annoyingly good at getting them. He hated those. 

 

Already not looking forward to doing any of the things that needed to be done today, Andrew got up and got changed. The shower would wait for later and so would getting something to eat. Cooking was nothing he enjoyed, and food was just a numbers game. Calories spent and calories taken in –simple math. Keeping track of the needed nutrients was the annoying part. 

 

On his way down he caught himself thinking about tonight. He _was_ looking forward to it, he realized. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They sat in Andrew’s living room, both with a coffee mug in front of them on the coffee table. Neil couldn't quite get over the fact that he sat in Andrew Minyard’s apartment; the Exy player Andrew Minyard that was. Facing a client wasn't that difficult to accept. So that was how he decided to look at Andrew now –another client. 

 

They went over a few other details. Yes, Neil got tested regularly and Andrew could have a look at his results, but they still would use protection –because Neil said so, and it wasn't negotiable. Not that Andrew had said anything against it. Since Andrew didn't want anything special –in fact, it seemed the goalkeeper just wanted to have vanilla sex, as far as Neil understood him –Neil had to actually think about the price. Did he want cash, Andrew wanted to know and yes, Neil would prefer that. 

 

The coffee wasn't halfway gone yet, and Neil got the impression that Andrew didn't like to be rushed, so he sat back and watched the man, trying to read him. That wasn't an easy thing to do, he had to admit. Andrew didn't display a lot of emotions, showed no hint of nervousness. 

 

“Let’s play a game,” Andrew proposed. “I have a question for you, and if you answer truthfully, you can ask me something in return.” 

 

“Shoot.” Neil put his coffee mug back onto the table. 

 

“Why this job?” Andrew looked at him closely.

 

“It pays well. –If you are good at it.” Truth, also, he didn't exactly have a lot of options when he had thought about doing this for the first time. He could see that Andrew wasn't really satisfied with his answer, so he cut him short before he could ask anything else. 

 

“My turn. Are the rumors about you and Kevin Day true?”

 

“You’ll have to be more specific. There are a lot of rumors, or so I’ve been told.” Neil thought about being subtle but Andrew never seemed to be. He couldn't imagine the goalkeeper giving a fuck about crudity. 

 

“Did you fuck Kevin?” 

 

“Gross.” Andrew looked at him, obviously bored. “Keep your fangirling for your jerk-offs.” So no, well, one great mystery solved. The fans went crazy with all the talk about Andrew taking revenge for his team captain and potential lover. It didn't bother Neil. Contrary to Andrews believes, he didn't get off on imagining other people having sex. He was not interested. 

 

“Do _you_ want to fuck Kevin?” Andrew seemed interested, and _that_ was interesting. The answer though was simple. 

 

“No.”

 

“He not your type?” Neil leaned back, open posture, nothing to hide. No need to lie, no need to avoid. 

 

“I don’t have a type.” He was more interested in Andrews reactions to his answers. He could play this game. 

 

“Meaning?” Andrew leaned back, one elbow propped up on the sofa's back, chin in hand. His legs were spread comfortably and Neil watched him closely. 

 

“It’s not your turn.” He liked this game. He liked that Andrew wanted to play this because he, Andrew Minyard, was interested in him. “Are you gay?” Time to get to the bottom of this. 

 

“Yes.” No hesitation, no shame, no guilt. Interesting. 

 

“Again. Meaning?” 

 

“Meaning I don’t like men or women. They don’t excite me.” It wasn’t a lie per se. Neil was interested in people. He didn't much care for their gender. He had no type. He also never allowed himself to get emotionally involved with anybody. He couldn’t, as long as he had unfinished business. But sometimes, he just couldn't help himself feeling this tugging sensation when he met someone unusual. He had always made sure to keep his distance from those people afterwards. 

 

There was also the fact that he didn't feel the need for sex. He did it, because it was part of his job, but he didn't crave it. He treated it as just that, his job –methodically. There were skills to be acquired and perfected, lessons to be learned if he wanted to stay safe. It was about pleasing another person, not about his own pleasure. Sometimes he had to fake it, sometimes he could convince his body to feel it through clever manipulation. Knowing how to please a man could help you out with your own body quite a lot. He had no female clients. He was not opposed to them, it had just never happened so far. 

 

And now there was Andrew. He knew of his fascination with the goalkeeper, of course. But Neil still thought about it as part of his love for Exy. He didn't know Andrew –he might get to know him now, but that didn't mean that he loved the man. He _did_ , as a player. Andrew was a beast on the field, a cold and dangerous one, the best goalkeeper he knew. 

 

“Being an a-sexual prostitute must make for some awkward business.” No need to correct him there, Neil thought, but still… 

 

“Again, not your turn. Try to play by the rules.”

 

“It was an observation,” Andrew interjected. ‘Smartass', was written all over Neil’s face and ‘Look who is talking’ seemed to be Andrew’s answer. Neil sighed. It was work related, he had to admit. He would answer questions if they were business related. 

 

“Not all my clients expect me to take pleasure in what we do in a scene. For some of them, it is not a requirement. –If it is, I know my way around the problem.”

 

“Drugs,” Andrew guessed. 

 

“Among other things,” Neil admitted. “I don’t need them. Quite a lot of people don’t use and want their partners sober. I can respect that.” He had this talk down. 

 

“So, you are not sexually interested in human beings. Animals, maybe? Things?”

 

“No.” He didn’t let himself be provoked by this. If Andrew wanted to test him, he could go ahead. If he wanted to look down on him for what Neil did, he could go ahead. It would just cost him more later. Somehow, coming from Andrew Minyard, it felt insulting though. It also made it quite easy to not correct him on the human being part. 

 

“ _Kids_?”

 

“Gross, seriously.” Neil was a little annoyed by now but he didn't let it show. Something told him though, that it hadn't just been a provocation this time. But Andrew moved on as if it meant nothing to him. 

 

“Do you touch yourself?”

 

“Sometimes.” No need to lie, nothing to hide… 

 

“Thinking of?” And there he drew the line. It didn’t matter to their possible arrangement.

 

“ _Again_ , not your turn,” he said and let a sliver of annoyance show. “I think we are done with this game for now. Let’s move on.” Again, Andrew took it in stride. 

 

“Alright.” He got up, and after a moment, Neil followed his example. “I want to touch you. Yes or no?” 

 

_Well_ , Neil thought, _that’s a given_. He hadn’t quite expected for Andrew to take the whole consent thing so literally. He shrugged and even as he said, “Yes, go ahead,” he could see that it displeased Andrew. Before the goalkeeper could say anything though, Neil adjusted his posture, took the hands out of his pockets and faced Andrew, giving him his full attention. “Yes,” he agreed once more, no flippancy detectable in his voice. 

 

Andrew blinked once, observed the change and said nothing. _Better_. Neil made a mental note. 

 

“Don’t touch me.” It was a warning, an order and a request. Neil nodded and crossed his wrists behind his back, thinking about mentioning some sort of rope, but left it for later. The goalkeeper stepped closer, and Neil saw the path Andrew’s hands would take as he followed the man’s eyes. Andrew’s hands were not hesitant, and they were not afraid. They moved across Neil’s upper body, starting at his chest, moving down to his hips and up again to his shoulders. They followed his arms down to his crossed wrists, and Neil lifted those as an invitation. As Andrew’s hands grabbed his ass, he looked the goalkeeper in the eyes and lifted an eyebrow. Andrew squeezed again in response but didn't let anything show on his face. _Cocky bastard_. 

 

Neil knew damn well that he looked the part. He kept in perfect shape, the shape of an athlete, and his clients never failed to tell him. –Except Andrew Minyard, of course. Well, the man didn't look half bad himself, he supposed. There was a thin line between arrogance and confidence, and Minyard managed to balance on top of it. Neil liked that. 

 

Andrew leaned in and stopped before their lips touched. Neil could feel his breath, could smell his skin and heard the low “Yes?” coming from Andrew’s lips. 

 

“Yes,” he agreed and leaned in the last bit to kiss him. Andrew’s lips were hard on his, and he cupped Neil’s neck with his hand to hold him close. Eyes closed, Neil tried to learn every movement of Andrew’s mouth, learned how his teeth would capture his lower lip and nip at it until it hurt and then let go again, how he would kiss him again and again, as if he had waited far too long for this, how his lips moved in this heated battle without pause. Neil urged him on with small, encouraging sounds, until Andrew held him back by the hair and looked at him, brows furrowed. 

 

_Doesn't like that_ , Neil filed away for future reference. He held Andrew’s gaze for a moment and then leaned in a bit again, with Andrew’s hand still tugging at his hair. He was content to simply kiss the goalkeeper this time, and was rewarded by Andrew’s tongue teasingly moving across his swollen lower lip. It felt almost too gentle at this point. Following Andrew’s lead, Neil deepened the kiss and felt strong fingers moving along his neck, up into his hair, pulling him closer, while another hand kept a few inches distance between them by holding onto his shoulder. They kept going until their lips hurt and they had to catch their breaths. 

 

Neil smiled a little and leaned in again, only to move back, just out of reach at the last moment. He left Andrew’s mouth alone for now and went lower, ghosting his breath along his jawline, stopping at his ear. “Yes?” he asked barely above a whisper. It would only take a tug of Andrew’s fingers in his hair to refuse him. 

 

“Yes,” the other man answered just as quietly, and Neil nipped gently at his earlobe. While Andrew seemed to be enjoying that, it didn't quite get him the desired reaction. He experimented a little, following the curve up with his tongue to his helix, making sure to gently breathe through his mouth. Moving down again, he found Andrew’s pulse point and felt the goalkeeper shiver. 

 

“Mmh,” he smiled and left open-mouthed kisses along his neck. Andrew hissed and made a step back, looking at him. Neil’s eyes widened a bit as he saw the slight blush on Andrew’s cheeks. “Too much?” Andrew didn't answer, maybe not quite sure himself. Neil straightened again and waited. 

 

Andrew rubbed at his neck once, as if to erase the feeling and glared at Neil. _Still, you liked that_ , Neil thought. Andrew grabbed the hem of Neil’s shirt, and the glare shifted into a silent question. In response, Neil took a step back and took it off, letting it fall to the floor. He knew there was a lot to take in, and so he waited. The scars on his body were many and told stories about his childhood. They were stories he kept to himself though. The scars didn't change the fact that he was beautiful.All lean muscle, and a body made for movement and speed. 

 

Andrew took it all in, his eyes inspected every scar with interest. Those marks on his skin made Neil’s clients think that he could take a lot more than was actually willing to give. Every one of them held unpleasant memories. “You can touch them,” Neil told him. 

 

Andrew’s hand reached out and touched his shoulder. He forced Neil backwards and followed him, until Neil’s back hit the wall and they kissed again. With his hands pressed against the wall, Neil let Andrew explore his skin. He tried not to concentrate too hard on the way those strong hands mapped out his upper body, finding every mark on him. It got harder when Andrew bent his head and kissed his way down the side of Neil’s neck, finding the scar there that curved downwards to his collarbone. 

 

“I want to jerk you off,” Andrew murmured against his neck, and Neil had to fight down a disbelieving laugh. Had had heard it before, of course, but not in the voice of his favorite Exy player. Somehow, all of this was about him so far. It wouldn't be unusual for him to go down onto his knees right now. He hadn't even so much as touched Andrew yet, apart from a few kisses.

 

“Be my guest,” he said, and hissed when Andrew attack his right nipple rather harshly. He could feel Andrew opening his belt and jeans, shoving the firm material out of the way, and reaching into his underwear. Neil was semi-hard already, and looking down, first at Andrew Minyard’s face and then his hand touching him, it was enough to get him fully erect in seconds. He bit onto the side of his lower lip, leaning back against the wall, with his hands firmly gripping the raw brick wall some interior designer had deemed fit to remain untouched, and pushed his hips forward, arching his back. 

 

One slide of Andrew’s hand, thumb hooked beneath the fabric, and his jeans and underwear fell down around his ankles. The same hand reached around and gripped his firm ass again, squeezing the muscle of his left cheek. 

 

Neil kept his eyes on Andrew’s face, saw the concentration there. _Hey now_ , he thought, _this shouldn't be the complicated part_. Andrew’s grip was firm, his strokes methodical and efficient, a little on the harder side. There was nothing playful about it. When their eyes met, Andrew glared. 

 

“Don’t look at me.” Neil lowered his gaze and watched Andrew’s hand sliding over his cock. There was enough pre-cum to make it feel slick by now, making it easier. If Neil had been a hormone-crazed teenager, this would have been enough to get him off for sure. Hell, he hadn't even gotten a hand job at that age. Now he would need a little more from Andrew. If the goalkeeper wouldn't look like he’d need all his focus on his right hand right now, they might even have a little fun. 

 

Neil closed his eyes, leaned his head back against the wall, which was digging into his skin –damn the thing, it reminded him of a back alley –and arched his back even more, resting only his hands and head against it. He pushed his hips forward into Andrew’s hand in rhythm with his movement, and forgot about earlier as he moaned, while he helped Andrew to improve his technique a little. Remembering, he kept his mouth shut again and looked at the ceiling, trying to come up with another solution to tell Andrew what felt right. 

 

The goalkeeper sighed, a little annoyed, and pushed Neil flat against the wall again with one firm shove. It startled him a little, and he looked down again at Andrew, who leaned in with his free hand and forearm resting against Neil’s chest, their faces only inches apart. “You can _talk_ , just don’t fake it,” he growled. 

 

“Kiss me again?” Neil requested and Andrew kissed him, hard. Neil had to admit, he liked that a lot. The nipping and scraping of teeth on his lower lip, the lazy slide of Andrew’s tongue against his, he liked that. It also took Andrew’s mind off what he was doing with his hands, and his movements became a little less methodical. 

 

“Mmh,” Neil moaned against his lips as it started to feel good. He leaned his head back and to the side, so Andrew could kiss his way down his neck again. “Ah, fuck yeah,” he hissed as the goalkeeper bit down on his left nipple and played with the other. Disobeying orders, Neil risked a glance down at the shorter man’s face, looking at his favorite player touching his naked body, and allowing himself to think about just that, and suddenly, in a violent rush of pleasure, he was done for. Neil closed his eyes and drew his brows together as he felt his orgasm approach. He didn't stop it, wasn't even sure if he could have. He was panting a few harsh breaths, snapping his hips back and forth into Andrew’s grip. “Coming,” he told Andrew, and moaned as it hit him, and he came hard into the goalkeeper’s hand. 

 

Andrew watched him closely and kept stroking until Neil’s body shuddered and he gasped, all spent and oversensitive. Andrew let go, and Neil leaned back against the wall for a moment longer, still a little surprised about what just had happened. He regained his composure and saw Andrew turning away, leaving for the bathroom; most likely to wash the mess off his hands. He let him go and rubbed one hand over his face, pushing his hair back. His palm was covered with indentations from the wall. Neil bent down and pulled his underwear and jeans back up, leaving the shirt off and the button of his jeans undone. Andrew was taking his time in the bathroom. Neil decided to wait a little longer and looked around. 

 

Not the typical living room of an athlete, he reckoned. Nothing to display Andrew’s achievements as an Exy player, nothing that even hinted at Exy, come to think of it. This was just a modern living room with an open kitchen, black leather furniture, and a big TV screen on the wall. It was kind of empty looking, and a little impersonal with no pictures or any other items telling a story about who was actually living here. Andrew had a bookcase, and Neil went over to inspect the contents of it. A little bit of everything, he decided; novels, mostly sci-fi and a few fantasy stories he recognized, philosophy, psychology and even chemistry. Nothing sports related though. Neil was about to give one of the psychology books a closer inspection, when he heard Andrew coming back. The man looked –different. Neil couldn't quite put his finger on it. He was about to ask what Andrew would like him to do next, when the shorter man preempted him. 

 

“You can leave now.” _Wait, what?_ Neil blinked once, came back into the center of the room. Andrew reached into his pocket and pulled out some folded bills. 

 

“Uhm…” Neil frowned and cocked his head. “Sorry, did I do something wrong?” 

 

“No.” Andrew’s voice was flat. He counted the money they had agreed on. It was enough to include more than a hand job though. Neil had thought the man would at least fuck him tonight, or receive a blow job. He had half a mind to tell Andrew that this was too much for what they had done so far, but the Exy player seemed to read his thoughts. “Just take it.” There was a hint of anger in his voice, and Neil shut up and took the money. If Andrew wouldn't tell him what had gone wrong, he couldn't change it. 

 

“Fine,” he agreed, his own voice flat now. He turned and collected his shirt from the floor, pulled it over and closed his jeans. Andrew didn't even look at him. _Okay then_ … “Bye,” was all he said, and then Neil left the apartment. The door closed behind him with a sound that echoed down the empty hallway. “Well, fuck,” Neil muttered and went home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this will take a while, as you can imagine. there are quite some hurdles to take for those two and I've got some explaining left to do in later chapters... 
> 
> thanks again for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this should be easy... right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took longer than expected. writing some of the later chapters didn't help, of course, but I went over this one again and again and it somehow ended up a mess in the process... hopefully, I've managed to straighten it out a little again.

As expected, Andrew hadn't contacted him again. Neil did his best not to think about it. It happened all the time, he wanted to say. He met with a new client and it just didn't work out for one of them. No big deal, you had to look at it in a professional way. Yet, he was still thinking about it. Luckily, he knew of ways to take his mind off things. He checked his phone one more time for messages and then left it on the kitchen counter to get changed. He just couldn't live without it, he admitted –Exy. 

 

He had always been meant to be a player. He still thought he would have made Court, if his past had allowed it. This sport –Neil would have gladly given up his life for it. He had no life left to give, though. It had been taken from him and he was still running from the remnants of his past. Where to, he had clue.

 

He had still clung to his dream to become a professional player until high school, when he had disobeyed his dead mother’s wish and joined a low-ranking school team in Millport. Now, years later, he thought of it as one of his biggest mistakes. They had nearly caught him back then. It had also cost him his education, since he had needed to vanish overnight, less than two months before his graduation. From there, so much had gone downhill for him. He grinned a little as he thought about it. Downhill… hadn't he already reached rock bottom long before that? How deep did this hellhole people called life go? Losing one’s family, dreams, past and future… how much was left after that? 

 

And still, he wouldn't let go of Exy. He needed it for his sanity, even if it was just the occasional game with this local patchwork team of unprofessionals, who met once every two weeks to give it their everything on the court. He didn’t know even half of their names, only their faces. He knew what they were like on the court, knew, that he could beat them all. It took the joy out of it somewhat, but it was still better than endless drills on his own. Exy was in his blood and he would never want to let go of his racquet. 

 

The matches were always a strange mix of cheerful greetings, rising tempers, hurt egos and an outlet for pent-up aggression from daily lives which didn't revolve around this sport. If someone had a bad day at work, trouble at home, unpaid bills, or a problem with no solution, he or she would drag all that onto the court and try to forget about it within the thrill of battle. Those were rough games. Although Neil always did his best not to shine too brightly on the court, the first fight of the evening had always been about which side he would play for that night; until they came up with the solution that he would have to switch sides halfway through. Rules were bent until the breaking point, voices raised in heated discussions, and bodies hit the ground with sometimes the bare minimum of protective gear. The cheers though, were all heartfelt. The joy of a victory would wash over them like a catharsis. Those games were the highlight of his days for the last year. It was all he had. It was not enough. 

 

 

 

When he came home that night, he had a message waiting for him. The man who was only labeled as The German in his mind, was a man in his late thirties. Neil had known him for years now; in fact, he had been the first client he had even taken on. If you could call it that. Neil supposed, the man had chosen him back then. 

 

 

They had met at a club, that night. It hadn't been Neil’s day –or maybe, it hadn't even been his month. Things hadn't looked so great. He had just skipped town again, giving in to his growing paranoia, which had threatened to drown him once again. Neil had bought himself a new identity back then; something he tried to avoid if possible. A fake identity was an expensive thing to buy, and even though he had started out with a respectable amount of money in the beginning, his funds had been running low after years of running. It was a miracle they had lasted him for so long, to be honest. He had always made sure not to buy anything unnecessary, apart from his Exy gear. He had always been paranoid and careful enough, so that no one had ever stolen from him. If not for his nervous breakdowns, which caused him to leave everything behind overnight if the lurking shadows were closing in on him again, he still would have been able to go on without thinking about money for a while. 

 

Yet that night, Neil had given in to the fear of being followed. There had been no trace of anyone. Still, he had followed his gut feeling. He had known that he wasn't going home that night. Whenever the shadows were closing in, he wouldn't go home in fear of dragging them there with him. He had made that mistake too many time already. Instead, he had crossed the street and ducked into the first nightclub he had spotted. It hadn't mattered to him what kind of club it was. He hadn't planed on staying. Sometimes, he just couldn't bear the feeling of being outside in the open. 

 

It had been a gay nightclub with bright neon lights, flashing in harsh contrast to the dark clothes of the crowd. Neil had found himself amid all kinds of men, dressed in outfits ranging from latex and leather, over shiny, skintight fabric, to the occasional black suit. More than one head had turned in his direction, and it had creeped him out. The excessive amount of flirting hadn't helped. Neil had retreated to one of the bars, the one furthest away from the moving crowd on the dance floor, and nearest the VIP area where people sat to be seen. He had been trying to work up the nerve to go back outside again. Neil had ordered a drink, just a soda, and tried to calm down, when the bartender told him that his drink had already been paid for. He had nodded at a man sitting at one of the tables in the back. He had been watching Neil. Still creeped out but trying to avoid further unwanted attention, Neil had raised his glass and nodded his thanks, then lowered his head. 

 

He had gone over to watching the bartenders work. Those guys were always the safest of all people to stay around. They were unlikely to want anything from a customer, apart from their money and the occasional interesting story to fill the slow hours. But the club had been busy that night, and the staff had left him alone, as long as he had his drink in front of him. 

 

“Hey, can I buy you a drink?” The question had come from a man, who had pushed his way through to stand beside Neil at the bar. 

 

“No thanks, I already got one,” he had declined, without sparing more than a sideway glance to make sure that this guy wasn't a threat. He wasn’t. It was just a guy at a party, trying to score. Well, too bad for him, he would just have to try his luck elsewhere. 

 

“I’ll buy you another. What did you get? Or we could dance first.” Not so easily discouraged, it seemed. 

 

“No. Don’t take it personally, but I’m not interested.” He deemed that to be polite enough. 

 

“Don’t be that way. Let’s have a little fun. You look like you could use it, _don’t take it personally,_ ” the guy tried. Geez. Neil had thought about something less polite to say, when someone pre-empted him. 

 

“I believe he said no. No need to be obtrusive.” It had been the guy who had paid for his soda. Dressed in an expensive suit, open collar, no tie, he had towered over them, his voice like velvet with an almost unnoticeable German accent. He had been older than Neil, too old to be hitting on him, he had thought. Maybe not. 

 

“Would you mind? We are trying to–“ the first guy had started, before he had been interrupted by a security, who had been standing at the entrance to the VIP area earlier. 

 

“Something the matter?” _Well, fuck_ , Neil had thought. So much for staying under the radar. 

 

“I think this gentleman was about to leave,” the German had said. Neil couldn't even get two words in to calm the whole situation down, before the guy next to him had been escorted to the exit. 

 

“Thanks but that was unnecessary.” 

 

“Was it? I don’t know. It wouldn't surprise me if you wouldn't have been the only guy he had bothered tonight. It’s bad for business.” 

 

“So you run this place?” He wasn't interested. Not really. 

 

“Hardly. I own a third of it. It’s a nice investment.” Someone else had gotten too close on Neil’s other side, trying to get the bartender’s attention, and Neil had felt the revulsion raising the hairs on his neck. “Pardon me, but would you like to join me for a bit? You look like you could use a little more space.” He had been about to decline but he had not felt like joining the crowd again, and going outside was still not an option. So he had nodded, without looking at the man and followed him back to one of the tables. They had sat down in white leather armchairs next to each other, facing the crowd. Neil had chosen his seat first, expecting the other man to sit across from him but he hadn’t. There had been enough space between them though, so Neil hadn't said anything. He had just taken another sip of his soda. 

 

Luckily, he hadn't been the center of attention afterwards. People had joined them at the table, talking to the German. Some had introduced themselves, and Neil had given them a fake name. Christian, he had called himself. No one had stayed long at their table, and no one had paid him too much attention, so he had finally been able to relax a little. 

 

“Another?” the German had asked. His glass had been empty. A waiter had come by to collect it. 

 

“Uhm, yeah. Thanks.”

 

“Or would you like something else?”

 

“No, I don't drink.” The man had smiled at him, a little amused. 

 

“I’m sure we have more than just soda to choose from.”

 

“Well, add some mint and lime to it then.”The waiter had nodded and left. 

 

“So, Christian, first time here?” Neil had leaned back and crossed his arms in front of his chest. 

 

“Yes, first time.” 

 

“I figured. I hope you don’t mind me saying, but you looked a little… out of place.” Neil had accepted that with a little chuckle. 

 

“Yeah, maybe.” His order had been placed in front of him and he had thanked the waiter. “So you tried to save me? That’s awfully kind of you,” he had tried to steer the conversation back to the man next to him. 

 

“Maybe. You looked like you had a bad day. I think we all can relate to that.”

 

“Hm,” Neil had nodded and they had raised their glasses. “Cheers.”

 

“Cheers.” His first sip had been a careful one, but Neil could detect no alcohol in his drink. Hopefully no drugs either. They had been once again joined by other men at the table, and Neil had gladly sat back and just listened for a while, watching the crowd. It hadn't bothered him to watch men flirting and kissing, dancing with each other. Some people might have found it offensive, some might have been disgusted, he just didn't care. People could do what they wanted as long as they left him alone. _He_ certainly wouldn't bother them. 

 

“Pardon me for saying something you might think of as offensive,” the German had said after a while. “I can’t help it, I have to ask you.” _Here we go_ , Neil had thought. 

 

“Wait,” he had sighed. “Before you say anything, I’m not interested.”

 

“You don’t even know what I want to know.”

 

“I think I do, though. Let’s not pretend. You were about to ask me if I would have sex with you. –You can deny it _or_ you can just admit to it. I’m not offended. It’s kinda obvious, anyway. Why else would you have invited me?”

 

“Jesus, you don’t like to beat about the bush, do you?” Neil had expected the man to be at least a little shaken by being called out like that. He hadn't been. His tone had carried no hint of embarrassment. 

 

“It’s a waste of time.”

 

“I like that. So, let me ask you something else then. Would you do it, if I paid you for it?” Not the direction Neil had thought this night would take. 

 

“You can’t afford me,” he had tried to shoot the man down. 

 

“What if I can?”

 

 

 

 

_‘Ich bin in der Stadt. Komm doch später im Club vorbei._ ’* Neil frowned at his phone. It was hard to shoot this man down. Not that he particularly liked him, he just didn't want to get on his bad side. 

 

‘ _Vielleicht’_ It was a vague response, but they both knew he would show up. 

 

His post-Exy high evaporated and Neil closed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. Back to business. He left his coffee untouched, turned around and went over to his makeshift wardrobe. It was really just a cloth rack, suspended by two strings, hanging from the ceiling. It took up a minimum amount of space and could be removed in no time. Next to it stood a metal drawer he had picked up somewhere from the streets a few months back. It contained all of his clothes that wouldn't fit on a hanger. Not too long ago, all his belongings had fit into one duffle bag. The fact that he actually paid rent and had a few pieces of furniture now showed that he had gotten more comfortable in his life –maybe a little too comfortable. Neil always made sure that he owned nothing he couldn't leave behind if he had to. 

 

He picked out an outfit for tonight and threw it onto the bed. He still had a few hours. 

 

 

 

It had been a surprise when Andrew Minyard had called again. It had taken the Exy player a little over a week to contact him again, requesting another meeting. Neil had agreed to it without thinking. _He_ couldn't complain about their last one. 

 

Once again they met at Andrew’s place, with the goalkeeper waiting at the door. Neil followed him inside. 

 

_Changed your mind_ , Neil was about to ask but didn’t. First of all, it would be unprofessional, and second, it was obvious Andrew had changed his mind –why ask stupid questions? This was Alex talking, he realized, a little confused about it. Usually he was very good at keeping his fake personas with the people they belonged to. Alex had no place here. 

 

“What do you want to do tonight,” he asked instead, standing in the middle of Andrew’s spacious living room. 

 

“I want what we did last time,” Andrew replied. Yes or no, Neil? He didn't need to ask. But he needed to hear an answer.

 

“Yes.” Neil closed the gap between them, and Andrew moved in for the first kiss. Obediently, Neil crossed his wrists behind his back, while Andrew’s hands slid up his chest to his shoulders and down again. Without anything to hold on to for support, Neil had to flex his abdominals and back muscles to stay in place, and Andrew seemed to approve as his fingers found Neil's six pack abs under the soft material of his shirt. 

 

Teeth found his lower lip and bit down, slowly releasing it in favor of licking the tingling skin. Unable to show affection with his hands, Neil slid his clean-shaven cheek against Andrew’s like a cat, then dipped down and moved his parted lips down the goalkeeper’s neck. Andrew smelled like cigarettes and body wash. He licked and nipped at the bare skin just above the collar. Hissing, Andrew grabbed him by the hair but didn't pull him away, allowing Neil to play a bit more, before he couldn't take it any longer and found Neil’s lips again. 

 

The kiss deepened under the firm press of Andrew’s lips. Neil had to hold himself upright enough to press back and relent enough, back arching, to start small attacks at Andrew’s neck in between. It went on and on, and he couldn't complain at all about doing this for as long as Andrew wanted, even as his abdominals started to tremble a little under the unyielding pressure. He kept his wrist firmly crossed behind his back, thinking about how it would feel to move his hips forward, to press them against Andrew’s, how he would like to grab the blond hair and run his fingertips over Andrew’s scalp. 

 

The thoughts vanished from his mind, as he leaned back a little more to find that pale neck again, and Andrew moved in at the same time, not done with challenging Neil’s tongue for another round of teasing, heated slides. All it took was this little, unstable moment and a sudden loss of tension in his muscles for Neil to lose his balance. An inarticulate sound escaped his mouth, and his wrists uncrossed out of pure reflex to regain his balance. His first impulse was to hold onto Andrew for support, but his head screamed no, causing his arms to flail helplessly at his sides for a second. Andrew, busy with exploring Neil’s firm chest, lost his grip on the the thin material of Neil’s shirt slipping through his fingers. His eyes widened a little as Neil jerked back and he didn't manage to grab his flailing arm in time, even with his goalkeeper reflexes. The scene found a sudden end, with Neil falling gracelessly onto his ass on the hard wood floor and Andrew looking down at him perplexed.

 

A sudden, irrational rush of embarrassment overtook Neil and colored his high cheeks. He played it down with a short laugh. _Smooth_ , he thought.

 

 

Andrew hadn't seen that coming. The look on Neil’s face had been a comical one, but he didn't laugh. He didn't even smile. He just grabbed Neil’s forearm and pulled him back onto his feet, staring at the younger man, while all he could think about was how Neil hadn't grabbed him for support. _This guy…_ he growled inwardly, annoyed that it pleased him so much.

 

He turned and moved over to the sofa, sat down and leaned back lazily, taking in every movement, every inch of this man in front of him. He beckoned Neil closer with index and middle finger.

 

“Do you want a show?” Neil asked, hooked his thumbs teasingly under the hem of his shirt and twisted them without revealing more than a sliver of bare skin yet. 

 

“Not today,” Andrew said and leaned back a little more. 

 

“You sure?” The taller man came over and stood directly in front of Andrew. Smiling, Neil pulled his shirt off with one hand and threw it to the side onto the far end of the sofa. Andrew looked up at him, permitting himself to think about all the things he had ever wanted to do with another man for a moment. He didn't kid himself, he wasn't even halfway there yet. Neil put his hands into his back pockets and arched his back a little, flexing his muscles. 

 

Andrew sat up straight again and reached up to touch the scars on Neil’s upper body. They were still very visible, would never fade, but they looked old. He must have gotten at least some of them during his childhood. Still, there were a lot and while some of them clearly told the story of their origin, like the gunshot wound or the burned skin on his shoulder, some did not. While Andrew carried most of his scars on the inside, Neil displayed his openly in front of him, owned them, wore them like medals, like a survivor. Andrew wondered  if he would ever be able to to that. He was suddenly strangely aware of his wristband, an item he hadn't thought twice of in years. 

 

Neil kept his eyes on Andrew’s hand, remembering not to look at the goalkeeper’s face for too long. They were still on solid ground here, had done this before. But Andrew wanted to push himself further tonight. There was no point to any of this if he didn’t. 

 

“I want to blow you.” Neil look at him then, before giving his answer. 

 

“Yes, if you want to.” Andrew’s hand slid down over bare skin, until his fingers hooked under Neil’s belt and pants. 

 

 

This could get a little awkward, Neil feared. Andrew had admitted to not having much experience. Neil doubted the man had ever given another guy a blowjob. Did that mean Andrew wanted him to teach him? He could do that, no doubt, but communication wasn't exactly their strong suit. He wasn't worried about himself. A first time blowjob wasn't always a pleasant thing for either side, but he would have liked to teach Andrew in a more direct approach. 

 

He didn't mind Andrew’s fingers hooked under his waistband like that, Neil thought. Andrew keeping him close like this, he didn't mind that at all. The blonde leaned in and kissed his stomach, right below his navel, and again, there were his teeth. Neil smiled down at Andrew, as the young man bit him playfully. Andrew wasn't shy. 

 

He let the Exy player kiss, lick and bite his skin for a while, standing there like a statue, watching Andrew do it, while those hazel eyes were fixed on his scars. “This feels a little one-sided,” he said after a while. 

 

“Are you complaining,” Andrew scoffed. 

 

“Why would I?” Why indeed? Imagining Andrew Minyard giving him a blowjob like this made Neil’s pants feel a little tighter. He followed that train of thought. It would only make things easier for them later. 

 

“Try to keep standing up this time,” Andrew made fun of him, and Neil rolled his eyes, half smirking. 

 

“I’ll try,” he promised. Andrew opened his belt and pants, and Neil helped him to slide them down with his now free hands. He let his arms hang loosely at his sides afterwards, watched Andrew palming his growing erection through his black underwear. He wanted to smooth those blond locks back and keep looking at this pale face he had seen in countless pictures. 

 

“Are you thinking of Exy?” Neil blinked. _What?_ He frowned and remembered their little game and Andrew’s fascination with his fantasies. 

 

“No.” The blonde looked up at him. “I’m not,” he scoffed. Andrew shrugged and focused his attention on Neil’s hips again, stripping him of the last obstacle. Neil was about to remind Andrew of their talk about rules and protection. He wouldn't let Andrew do anything without a condom, even if Neil was on the receiving end. His last test had only been two months ago, but he had shared the bed with three different men since then on multiple occasions. He always drew his line at hand jobs, and he wouldn't let Andrew be the first to cross it. He wouldn't risk infecting the man. It turned out though, he didn't need to remind him. Andrew was already reaching into his pocket, pulling out a condom. 

 

“Should I,” Neil offered. 

 

“I think I can manage,” Andrew replied and ripped the foil packet open. Neil watched him but once again, Andrew showed no hesitation and managed it without fumbling. “Hands,” he reminded Neil. Obediently, the taller man clasped his hands behind his back. He anticipated the moment Andrew looked up at his face and managed to avert his gaze in time. 

 

Andrew looked down at his own hand for a moment, rubbed his thump over the lingering residue of the coating on his fingers. Judging by the packet, it was just a standard brand you could pick up at any drug store. It would do the job. Neil had no worries there. There was a pause while Andrew just looked at him, hands resting on his own thighs, sitting in front of Neil. 

 

Unbidden thoughts crossed his mind. _It’s not gonna suck itself_ , in Alex’ tone of voice. He didn't even know where he had first come across that line, some sort of picture with a guy who had it tattooed along his waistline, he thought. Stupid, he knew Andrew was just trying to work up the nerve to move forward. This would be so much easier, if he could just find the right words Andrew needed to hear, if he would be allowed to touch the man. All he could do right now was to stand in front of him like a soulless mannequin that didn't mind waiting, didn't notice, didn't feel any of the awkwardness. 

 

There was nothing on Andrew’s face. It was wiped clean of all emotions, but Neil thought his mind must be racing. _You can make mistakes when you are with me_ , he wanted to tell him. _You don't have to be perfect, you don't even have to be good at it. You pay me for this_. 

 

All he said after a while was, “Don’t think about it.” He would have said nothing, but it wasn't exactly the most ideal situation, trying to keep it up while Andrew wasn't even touching him anymore. Those hazel eyes met his again, as if Andrew had been too deep in his own thoughts to even notice the pause. He had meant to say ‘ _don’t think about what you are going to do and what could go wrong_ ’ but Andrew looked at him like it meant something entirely different to him. _Bad memories? Where have you been just now?_

 

The goalkeeper ran his hands up Neil’s legs, touching the back of his thighs, grabbing his ass and holding him in place, while he finally leaned forward, lips parted, and took him into his mouth. Neil had to bite back a grin at the face he made. In his opinion, there were nicer things than the taste of latex and some brands of lube. It wasn't a horrible taste but some people didn't like it. This one had a vaguely mint-like flavor with a strangely synthetic aftertaste, he remembered. Andrew didn't like it one bit. Using one hand to keep the condom in place at the base of Neil’s cock, he sucked lightly and ran his tongue along the underside. Neil would have liked it, if not every new inch of latex Andrew’s tongue licked seemed to disgust the man. Andrew looked like he wanted to spit. Neil blinked and looked down at him, and when Andrew actually gaged, he took pity on him. 

 

“Maybe we…” The goalkeeper glared up at him angrily. “should try another brand. You don’t like the taste?” Andrew leaned back and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and swallowed hard. 

 

“It’s vile,” he mumbled from behind his hand. 

 

“Just the taste?” Neil made sure. 

 

“Yeah, what else would it be?” the goalkeeper snapped. Raising his hands placatingly at his sides, Neil would have liked to take a step back, but the coffee table was right behind him. 

 

“Okay. I’ll keep that in mind.” He jumped a little when Andrew gripped his softening cock and slid the condom off in one, none too gentle motion, and flung it across the room. Neil couldn't bite back a short hiss, although it hadn't hurt. Too close for comfort though. _Or we won’t do this again, if you’d rather rip my dick off right now_ , he thought. _Scary_. 

 

Andrew made a disgusted sound and got up. His hands grabbed Neil’s shoulders and maneuvered him to the side and out of the way, so he wouldn't lose his balance. 

 

“Go, wash that off,” he told him. Neil bent down and stepped out of his pants and underwear, which were only draped around one of his ankles by now anyway. Feeling foolish in just socks, he left those right there too and marched naked across Andrew’s living room, down the hall, looking for the bathroom, picking up the used condom on his way to dispose of it. He noticed Andrew looking at him. The man was standing in his kitchen, rinsing his mouth out at the sink. 

 

Neil found the bathroom after his second try, switched the lights on and washed all the lingering residue off his skin. He touched his fingers to his lips and licked them. Yap, that was the taste he remembered. It wasn't that bad in his opinion. After making sure he was clean, he grabbed a towel and wiped himself off, throwing it into the laundry hamper afterwards, so Andrew wouldn't accidentally use it later. 

 

He found the Exy player still in the kitchen when he came back, sucking on a spoon in his mouth and with a jar of something in his hand that looked suspiciously like chocolate spread. Neil smiled and stood on the other side of the bar, chin in hand. 

 

“My turn, right?” Andrew looked at him and nodded. “Is it true? You like sweet things, and your favorite food is double chocolate and caramel ice cream?” He had read that somewhere and remembered wondering if Andrew had actually said that during the interview or if it had been a joke.

 

“You are seriously taking a turn for that?” Andrew seemed unimpressed. 

 

“Wait, is there a limit? I thought I get as many as I want.” 

 

“Until you run out of truths that interest me.” The goalkeeper pushed the jar away, across the counter and leaned back to face Neil. 

 

“Never heard that I am boring before.” 

 

“There is always a first time for everything,” Andrew replied. “It’s true.” 

 

“You don’t look like it,” Neil said, glad that the mood hadn't suffered. 

 

“What does that even mean,” Andrew wanted to know. 

 

“It means you look hot and not like you eat junk food all day.” _I also can’t imagine someone like you having a sweet tooth._

 

“How would you know?” True, he hadn't even seen Andrew taken so much as his shirt off so far, hadn't touched him yet. 

 

“I can tell. Plus, I’ve seen you in ads.” He wondered how much an athlete made from those. Andrew didn't even use social media. 

 

“Photoshop.” Neil rolled his eyes and shook his head. 

 

“Are you trying to say that you think you are ugly?” he wanted to know.

 

“See? Now that turn would come in handy,” the goalkeeper made fun of him. He threw the spoon into the sink. Then he came around the bar and trapped Neil between his hands, gripping the wooden surface on either side of him, while the taller man turned around. When Andrew leaned in and held back at the last moment, head tilted to the right, eyes half closed, waiting, Neil could smell the chocolate on his breath. He closed his eyes and met Andrew's lips with his own. 

 

“Touch me,” Neil breathed between two kisses, and when Andrew did, he spread his arms wide and held onto the bar. They kept kissing, and Neil enjoyed those strong hands exploring his body, kneading muscles and tracing his scars. He widened his step without thinking the moment he felt Andrew’s knee pushing between his. The shorter man moved in even closer, thigh sliding up between Neil’s legs, and Neil moved against it for some friction and moaned softly against Andrew’s lips. 

 

Andrew’s hand grabbed his ass again and pulled while his mouth held Neil back, so the taller man had to tilt his hips, arching his back a little. He followed Andrew’s lead without thinking or opening his eyes. He just made sure to tighten his grip on the bar behind him to keep his balance. With one hand keeping Neil in place, Andrew reached down with the other and began to massage his erection, listening to those soft sounds the man in front of him made when he was touching him just right, and he could feel his cock jumping a little. Neil hissed when Andrew’s leg moved and the friction of the fabric was on the verge of painful.

 

He forgot about it as he felt the Exy player moving in, grinding down against his naked thigh instead. Andrew was hard, he could feel him through his pants. Neil opened his eyes and looked at the pale face in front of his. Concentration was once again written all over him. Neil didn't dare to break the spell. He kissed back harder, moved his hips into Andrew’s hand and slid his thigh along the goalkeeper’s groin. He heard Andrew’s breath hitch a little and left his lips for now, in favor of kissing along his jawline. Before he reached his neck, he hesitated and asked,

 

“Yes?” as quietly as he could. Andrew leaned his head to the side and nodded once. Neil was more careful than the last time, only pressing open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin, letting his warm breath ghost over it. The man holding him shivered but didn't make a sound. The color returned to those pale cheeks and Neil felt a little proud of himself. Andrew’s grip got tighter, his movements more urgent, and Neil moaned against his neck. He felt Andrew’s cock twitching against his thigh. He wanted to touch it, wanted to take those pants off and run his hands over those strong legs. Dammit, he was enjoying this way too much; a simple hand job like this, another man using him to get off… It was business but he actually liked it, wanted it. 

 

“I’m close,” he warned Andrew. He didn't think Andrew wanted him to come all over his clothes. “Andrew…” Andrew found his lips again and shut him up. It was all tongue and firm lips and heat and Andrew, grinding against him, and his hand stroking him mercilessly. “Ah!” Neil leaned his forehead against Andrew’s and stared down between them as he came. He made a mess all over himself, the goalkeeper’s hand and pants, and sucked in a breath that got stuck in his lungs while he listened to Andrew's harsh breathing. The man was close, he realized, just from jerking him off like this. He could feel it, yet Andrew didn't touch himself. Neil felt the strong impulse to reach out and pull him close and barely managed to hold back. He saw the conflict in Andrew’s face; some unknown battle he couldn't understand, and when Andrew looked up from his hand, still holding Neil and found his eyes on him, he got angry, stepped back and turned around. 

 

“Andrew–“ He didn't want to hear it. Andrew left, went down the hall and slammed the bathroom door shut behind himself. “Fuck,” Neil mouthed and looked at the ceiling. 

When Andrew came back, he was still pissed. He had changed into loose sweatpants and threw the money onto the bar, keeping his distance from Neil, who had dressed again and waited standing next to the window. There was a long and awkward pause between them, before Andrew retreated back to the kitchen window and opened it, lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. 

 

“Listen, you can tell me to shut up, ‘cause it’s none of my business,” Neil began and tried to lock eyes with Andrew, “but if you won’t tell me what’s bothering you, I can’t do anything about it. You have to tell me, ‘cause I can’t read your mind. I’m sure we can make it work.” 

 

“Shut up.” His tone was as flat and emotionless as Neil had feared. He let his shoulders fall and sighed a little. Well, he had said it. 

 

“Alright. Got it.” He took his money and turned around to look at Andrew once more. “Feel free to call me again.” Andrew didn't reply. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Translation notes:  
> 'I'm in town. Care to join me later at the club'  
> 'Maybe' 
> 
>  
> 
> Once again, I'm not one for happy endings. those two had a rough start, it certainly will be a rough match and the end– well, no spoilers! of course there will be some happier scenes along the way, you'll just have to stick around a little longer. 
> 
> Neil's past wasn't exactly a walk in the park, as we all know, and not getting to meet Andrew and the Foxes did nothing to improve that. Andrew, on the other hand, had to go trough university without Neil, playing with a fractured team that no one could fix.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I hate you,"...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all thank you for all your kind words and the Kudos. You are awesome!

People usually saw what they wanted to see. Problem was, Neil couldn’t figure out what Andrew wanted to see in him. He couldn’t read the man like his usual clients. It was problematic, to say the least. It caused him to switch between his made up personalities, always unsure, always guessing and that was dangerous. Chris, Nathaniel, Alex… It was hard to keep track of himself sometimes.

Neil on the other hand, saw too much in Andrew. Most of it was his own wishful thinking, the result of idealizing the Exy player for years. He had never seen a goalkeeper like him. He had to get a grip on himself. This wouldn’t work if he couldn’t leave his own expectations outside of that apartment. This was business.

 

Who was Andrew Minyard? Neil leaned with his bowl of breakfast oatmeal next to his kitchen window and looked down at the street below. He scratched his ankle below the baggy sweat pants with his bare foot.

 

He didn't even know what bothered him so about the whole situation with Andrew. The man was a dream of a customer; no special requests, paid more than he had to, was a total turn on to the point where Neil had to ask himself why Andrew had asked him in the first place… He should just keep his mouth shut and do what Andrew wanted. Right now he had a text waiting for him to answer. 

 

‘ _are you really obsessed with exy?’_ He looked down at the message and added a mental _or just me_ to it. Both? Definitely both. 

 

_‘Yes’_

 

That turn had been no better than his own ice cream question, he thought. Still, Andrew texting him meant the man was not too upset about their last meeting. Good. 

 

He had just come home from a run. Exercise helped him to keep his head clear. It also kept him busy and made it easier to ignore the void other people filled with friends. When was the last time he had just gone out to hang out with someone? He couldn't remember. Did those Exy games count? Probably not, he just went there to play, not to enjoy the company of others. Maybe Roland was the closest thing to a friend he had in this city and the man didn't even know his last name. Neither did he, Neil reminded himself. It didn't matter. He wouldn’t stay here. Sooner or later, he would move on. 

 

His childhood memories tried to creep up on him again. They lingered at the back of his mind, scratching at the walls, trying to claw their way through. He swallowed his last mouthful of oatmeal and set the bowl down. His fingers itched for his racquet. Some Exy drills usually helped to keep his demons at bay. Maybe he would go out and get some practice in before tonight. Yeah… maybe he would. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The reporters were already waiting for them when Andrew and Kevin left the hospital. Both of them were bombarded with questions, both of them kept their mouths shut. Andrew stepped in front of Kevin and used his infamous reputation and most intimidating look on his face to get them away from the cameras and microphones and into the parking lot. 

 

Kevin hissed a little as he managed to get into the Maserati and closed the door. The sudden lack of noise was a relief. 

 

“Is this going to be a problem?” he asked Andrew. The shorter man leaned back and started the car. 

 

“I don’t know, Kevin. Is a busted shoulder and one of your goalkeepers missing going to be the end of your Exy dreams?” He drove them to the stadium. 

 

“That’s not what I meant,” Kevin snarled. His shoulder hurt and he was not in the mood for Andrew’s taunts right now. 

 

“No? What then? Is the guy who’s supposed to watch your back going to jail gonna be a problem? I don’t know, Kevin. You tell me.” 

 

“Andrew,” Kevin gritted out. Andrew said nothing. “Andrew, for god’s sake!”He rubbed his eyes, tired of all the arguments, of all the stuff that was going on right now. “Why did you do it?” 

 

“You know why.” Andrew kept his eyes on the road. 

 

“This isn’t the same,” Kevin said, maybe for the fifth time. 

 

“Yeah, it is.” 

 

“How? It was an accident, Andrew. The guy took me down, okay but that’s the game. I could have dodged him. You _know_ I could have. But I didn’t. I went for the shot.” He got no reaction. “Andrew, talk to me.” 

 

“What’s there to talk about?” 

 

“You shattered that guy’s kneecap,” Kevin managed to grit out, nauseated by the thought. 

 

“And he isn't going to play again.” 

 

“We don’t know that yet. There has been no announcement so far.” There hadn’t. He had checked. There was surprisingly little about the whole thing, and Andrew wouldn’t talk about it.

 

“‘Course not. Why crush wonder boy's dreams of ever being able to run again?” Andrew smirked. “You are lucky to have someone like me telling you that your career is over. Spares you the denial.” 

 

“Is this a joke to you?” Kevin could barely keep his anger in check. “Andrew–“

 

“Just because Riko is gone, doesn't mean I will break our promise,” Andrew interrupted him in his monotone voice. 

 

“Fuck, stop the car!” Kevin ordered. He waited until Andrew had taken them off the road and then turned sideways in his seat, facing the blonde man. “Listen to me, Andrew, for once in your life, listen! This has to stop! I get it, okay? But it’s enough. You’ve done enough. Wasn't the whole point of this for you to find something worth living in return? Wasn't me showing that to you also part of that promise? How is that gonna work out with you in prison? Huh? You think I want that?” 

 

“I think you have better things to worry about now, Kevin. What are you going to show me if you can’t play anymore? It’s over.” That guy had taken Andrew’s chance away. With his career at an early end, Andrew would quit too, Kevin realized. This wasn't just about him. This was Andrew lashing out because he had lost something. 

 

“And that makes it okay for you to throw your life away? Are you serious?” This was insane. 

 

“Do you see me laughing?” _No, I see you screaming ‘I don’t care’ from the top of your lungs since the day I met you_. 

 

“I’m not done. You hear me? I’m not going to quit. There is still a chance–“

 

“Thirty five percent,” Andrew muttered.

 

“What?” 

 

“That’s the chance of your full recovery. Thirty five percent.” _Better than nothing_ , he told himself. Yet Kevin felt dead inside. 

 

“I _will_ play again,” he gritted out. It was the only option. 

 

He had managed to escape Edgar Allan, Riko was overseas to lead the new national team of Japan. The self-proclaimed number one and King of Exy still lingered in his thoughts almost every day, and his provocations at every press conference, telling the whole world that he was coming for Kevin, that he would get him, didn't help. Still, Andrew had kept his word to protect him from Riko, and in return Kevin had dragged him along every single step of the way until they had joined the US national team. 

 

“Then I won’t go to prison.” The Maserati roared back to life. It was a statement, as if willing it would make it happen. Simple as that. _Thirty five percent_ , Kevin thought again. It didn't matter, he decided. He had switched his dominant hand before, he could do it again. Even if he wouldn't make a full recovery, he would make it work. What else was there after all? His phone rang and he picked up on the second ring. 

 

“Yes coach, we are on our way. –Ten minutes.” He glanced sideways at Andrew. “Okay. Will do.” He hung up. “Coach says you are gonna play today.”

 

“Will I?” 

 

“Andrew,” Kevin sighed. They would have to go through this again, wouldn't they? Andrew refusing to play without Kevin on the court. Coach wouldn't have it. Kevin thought Andrew was blaming the team for what had happened as much as himself. If they had done their job, Kevin would have had a clear shot. If they had done their job, the team wouldn't always fall behind when one of them got subbed out. Andrew, Kevin knew, had standards as high as his own –he just didn’t tell people about them like Kevin did. He just acted like their teammates were not there, like he couldn't count on them, like they were useless. As the team’s captain Kevin couldn't afford that. He still told his players that they were trash if they didn't give it their everything on the court. He never held back criticism. It pissed them off, but they listened because he was still better than them and he didn't mind reminding them over and over again. It didn't work with Andrew though. It never had. With Andrew it was always bargaining, bribing… He was running out of bargaining chips fast, he knew. He also knew things would escalate from there.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It took Andrew two weeks to contact Neil again. ‘c _an you make it tonight?’_ Well, shit, no, he couldn’t. He already had a client tonight. 

 

‘ _No, sorry. Any other time though._ ’ There was nothing for a few minutes. Neil noticed how he hadn't let go of his phone, even though he was about to make himself something to eat. He rolled his eyes and put the stupid thing aside. He had just gotten all of the needed ingredients out of the fridge when it vibrated again. He reached for it immediately. 

 

‘w _hat about right now? can I pick you up?’_ Huh? It was only noon, he had enough time until… –what the hell was he thinking? Bending his own rules for this man already? Great. Still… Andrew had never asked him to do something he had to think twice about during their meetings. In fact, with Andrew it didn't even feel like he was working. Neil hesitated. He wanted to say yes, he realized. 

 

“What the hell, Josten,” he muttered. His thumb hovered over the keypad. _Careful now,_ he told himself. He began to type a response, erased it, typed again. 

 

‘ _Okay’_ And while he was still thinking about a place to meet, Andrew surprised him again. 

 

_‘come down when you are ready’_

 

Neil stared at his phone. He went over to the kitchen window and looked down. Sure enough, there was Andrew’s black Maserati waiting. “You gotta be kidding.” He didn't know if he should be pissed off or creeped out. He already knew that Andrew had figured out where he lived. He also realized that Andrew must have thought about him. He couldn't imagine the man driving somewhere, minding his own business, until he suddenly realized that he was coincidentally in this godforsaken neighborhood Neil lived in. Neil didn't know what to make of this. 

 

It had to wait, he decided. He would have to figure it out later. He had already agreed to meeting Andrew now, so what was the point? Absentmindedly, he put his lunch back into the fridge, spared a moment to wash his hands, then changed his shirt, grabbed his jacket and keys, and was out the door. Hands in his pockets and with a guarded expression in place, he approached the black car. He opened the passenger door and bent down to look at Andrew. The goalkeeper didn't smile, barely even looked at him. _Not sure about the whole situation either_ , Neil thought. Fair enough. He got into the car and closed the door. Without a word, Andrew shifted the Maserati into gear and drove them down the empty road. 

 

Andrew looked tired, Neil thought, on edge. Bad day, maybe. He remembered the incident after the last game. There had been no news about what had come of the whole thing. Neil thought about asking but something told him, Andrew wouldn't appreciate that. He settled on something innocuous. 

 

“You alright?” Andrew gripped the steering wheel a little harder for a second. 

 

“Sure.” He made an illegal u-turn to get them back in the right direction of the goalkeeper's apartment. Neil watched an angry driver behind them giving Andrew the finger. The Exy player didn't seem to care.

 

Music filled the silence that had settled heavily between them and Neil thought about telling Andrew that he didn't like clients waiting for him in front of his home. He hated the idea, but he couldn't bring himself to tell the man. _What the hell_ , he thought annoyed with himself. What was wrong with him?

 

_Can you please_

_Sit the fuck down_

_Protesting in your_

_Paper crown_

 

_You love to feel offended_

_Fighting from computer trenches_

_You got a semi-automatic mouth_

_Go easy now_

_And you're so loud_

 

He leaned back and looked out the window. Being angry with oneself accomplished nothing if you didn't take it as an impulse to change something. He knew it. He’d have to talk with Andrew about this. 

 

_Screaming monks_

_Ears are numb_

_God can't whisper_

_When the bass is up_

 

“How much time do you have,” Andrew wanted to know. 

 

“I have to be back at six. Are we going to your place?” No reason to assume otherwise. It was the right direction and they had never gone anywhere else, but he had to make sure. 

 

“Yeah.” 

 

_You got a semi-automatic mouth_

_Go easy now_

_And you're so loud_

 

_Can you please_

_Turn yourself down_

_Ritalin kids_

_Doing cocaine wipe outs_

_No need to feel offended_

 

Neil nodded. He leaned his elbow against the door and listened to Andrew’s choice of music. Nothing he would have picked but not bad. The stereo told him that Andrew preferred his own collection of mp3s over any radio station. Neil thought he would like to go through that list and pick Andrew’s brain apart. Your music collection wasn't as good as your google search history –that one told everything about a person –but it would tell him enough. 

 

_Sharing secrets with another world_

_Rubbing shoulders with some unknown lovers_

_Making waves through the universe_

_Starting wars with anonymous brothers_

_Trip switch trip switch_

 

“I’ll take you back when we are done,” Andrew said suddenly. 

 

“You don't have to. I’ll be fine.” Better to make sure this wouldn't happen again. “I don’t meet clients back there.” The goalkeeper nodded. Seemed like Andrew accepted it without an argument. 

 

_Make a wish and I'll count to three_

_Press the button and we'll both be happy_

_Sending signals is a dirty trick_

_I get my love in a digital packet_

_Trip switch trip switch_

 

_What we do when the power's out_

_Down, down, down, down, down_

 

The car turned smoothly down into the underground parking lot and they got out. Two doors lead into the lobby and to the elevator. Andrew used his fingerprint to open it. Once they were in Andrew’s apartment, the goalkeeper blocked Neil’s way with one hand pressed against the wall, arm outstretched. He looked stiff, agitated, even though his face was as blank as usual. Neil stood next to him and waited. 

 

“Go on,” he told the shorter man. Andrew frowned. 

 

“You don't even know what I want,” he said and Neil could see how much that annoyed him. He could tell Andrew that he didn't care, that he could take it, no matter what he had in mind, that he had worse things done to him even before he had picked up this line of work. But that wasn't what Andrew needed to hear. In fact, Neil was sure Andrew would throw him out that door right there without another word if he said something down that line right now. 

 

“Go on, tell me then,” he said instead. There was still anger in those hazel eyes. _Bad day indeed._ “Or just kiss me.” The other arm trapped Neil with his back against the wall and the goalkeeper’s solid body right in front of him. The moment their lips met Andrew took both of Neil’s wrists and pushed them up against the wall on either side of Neil’s head. The taller man had no doubt that he wouldn't be able to break that grip, even if he had wanted to. He could free himself, of course, but Andrew’s grip was like a vice. He didn't resist. All he did was kiss back and close his eyes. After that it took only a few moments until the tension left the man in front of him. Andrew’s grip loosened and his hands slid down Neil’s forearms until he was sure that those hands would stay where they were. 

 

Neil moved them behind his own head, out of the way. Some people liked foreplay, some people needed some aftercare, Andrew needed reassurance. 

 

“Hmm,” Neil purred as Andrews hands found his nipples through the fabric of his shirt. The kiss deepened, and Neil once again thought how much he liked kissing Andrew, when suddenly his stomach growled loudly, remembering him of his missed lunch. Neil didn't get embarrassed easily anymore, but when their lips parted and Andrew raised an eyebrow at him, he felt his cheeks burning. He laughed a little and rolled his eyes towards the ceiling. 

 

“Sorry. Ignore that.” 

 

“Don’t I pay you enough?” Andrew’s humor was lost in his flat tone. 

 

“Huh? –Oh, no, I just had no time to eat yet.” 

 

“I told you to come down when you are ready,” Andrew replied. Neil shrugged. 

 

“It’s fine.” He seriously didn't care. He wasn't even that hungry. It could wait. Andrew looked unimpressed and let go of him. “Andrew?” The Exy player ignored him and went into the kitchen. Neil sighed and followed him. “You don't have to. I usually don’t eat with clients.” 

 

“Another rule?” Andrew was facing his fridge and didn't turn around. 

 

“Well, kinda, yeah.” He just didn’t like it. He leaned against the bar between kitchen and living room.

 

“What if I want to?” Neil frowned at that. He took his jacket off and left it on one of the barstools.

 

“Hm?” What kind of question was that? What if he wanted to… If _he_ wanted to eat? If he wanted them to eat together? Andrew sighed and turned around halfway. 

 

“Would you eat with me, if I told you to do it?” he asked at length. Neil scratched his head. 

 

“It’s your money, I guess. Depends on the food, though. I won’t eat anything strange, for future reference.” Andrew shook his head, holding a plastic tray of sushi in one hand. 

 

“Just how many kinks do you think I have? –Yeah, no need to answer that. Do you eat fish?” Neil nodded. “Sit down.” Andrew decided against plates, deemed it too much effort, and only grabbed chopsticks for the two of them, before he put the sushi he had gotten this morning, still in it’s container, between them onto the bar. 

 

“My turn?” he asked, when they both had settled down and took a bite. Neil needed a moment before he realized Andrew was talking about their little game. 

 

“No, but go ahead.” 

 

“How many rules did you break for me so far?” Neil sighed. He picked up a piece of sushi and ate it before he thought about an answer. 

 

“Four.” Andrew nodded. _Four_ , what the hell was he thinking? This was crazy. He had to get a grip, now. 

 

“Why the bad mood today?” He asked it casually, but he felt a little bolt for asking. Andrew thought about it. The silence stretched on for a little while. 

 

“I did something I told myself not to,” he answered vaguely. 

 

“Texting me today?” Neil guessed. 

 

“Not your turn,” Andrew shot him down. 

 

“You skipped a round, it’s still my turn.” This was juvenile, but maybe he had to take this game a little more seriously if he wanted to get to know Andrew Minyard. 

 

“Yes,” Andrew admitted, offering the bare minimum of information. Neil put his chin in one hand and studied the man. The goalkeeper opened his mouth to say something, still facing his sushi, when Neil cut him short. 

 

“‘Don’t stare at me,’” he guessed. Andrew clucked his tongue in annoyance. 

 

“Shut up,” he said instead and Neil grinned. “Eat.” 

 

In a casual tone Neil replied, “I’d rather eat you.” ‘…o _ut’_ , he didn't say, 'suck you off' was another thing he didn't say, but Andrew’s eyes widened a little. Was this Alex again, Neil wondered, or did he really mean that? Dirty talk didn’t come naturally to him. He had learned it as part of his job.

 

“Eat,” Andrew repeated, but Neil could tell he had gotten to him. Doing as he had been told, Neil ate his remaining sushi. 

 

“If you could have a super power, what would you choose?” he changed the subject. The lingering tension was nice but it was better not to push it. 

 

“That’s a nice way to waste a turn,” Andrew mocked. 

 

“Huh? No, I don't mean it like that. You don't have to tell me.” He didn't want to play this game too often. He’d get too close to this man. 

 

“Then why ask me? If you are not interested in the answer?” 

 

“I am interested.” Neil shrugged. “Being invisible would be nice, don't you think?” 

 

“That’s easy enough. Just be boring and ordinary and people will stop looking at you.” Andrew put his chopsticks aside.

 

“That’s not the same.” Neil shook his head. They didn't speak for a while and Neil had already moved on when Andrew came up with his answer. 

 

“Being able to stop thinking.” 

 

“Is that a super power?” 

 

“Can you do it?” Andrew challenged. 

 

“Still, no superpower,” Neil insisted and Andrew didn't feel like replying. “Besides… I could make you,” Neil said then, “stop thinking.” He grinned at Andrew. 

 

“I hate you.” Wow, where had that come from? Neil blinked, the grin slipping from his lips. Had he read the wrong signals into this? 

 

“Sorry to hear that,” he replied, a little shaken by that sudden statement. “I kinda like you.” When Andrew looked at him so furiously at that moment, Neil thought he had messed up for sure. He just sat there, unsure what to say or do. 

 

Suddenly, the doorbell rang and Neil turned around. Andrew stood up and Neil was about to, when the goalkeeper shook his head, telling him with a hand gesture to stay seated. Neil wasn’t so sure that this was such a great idea. If someone saw him here, it might raise questions. 

 

Andrew opened the door and didn’t say anything to invite the person standing there inside. He didn't need to. Allison Reynolds marched in uninvited. She, like Kevin, had been part of the team Andrew had played for before. An illness had cut her Exy career with the Foxes short, and now she had stepped off the court and behind the scenes.

 

“Hello, Andrew. I’m guessing you have no idea what time it is, otherwise I would have to be offended that you skipped our appointment.” Her heels echoed inside the apartment. If Andrew did respond, he did it nonverbally and Allison didn’t seem to care, since she was still talking when she entered the living room. Neil recognized her immediately, of course. Allison was even more strikingly beautiful in person. Neil bet she knew it too. 

 

Right now she was looking at him as if she couldn't believe what she saw. “Minyard, who is that?” She tilted her head in Andrew’s direction but didn't take her eyes off Neil. 

 

“That’s Neil.” She raised an eyebrow. 

 

“And who is Neil?” _Don’t say anything_ , Neil wanted to tell Andrew but he kept his mouth shut. There was nothing wrong with him being here in the first place. He could be anyone. –Except that by the way Allison was reacting, Andrew didn't have many visitors, which made him interesting. 

 

“My social media manager,” Andrew lied without missing a beat. 

 

“You don’t have social media accounts,” Allison said, unimpressed. 

 

“Exactly,” Andrew replied, as if she had just answered her own question. She rolled her eyes, swallowed the lie and moved on. She had long before given up on trying to get any information out of Andrew Minyard if he refused to share. Almost everyone had.

 

“Anyway, you owe me a shooting, Minyard. I can’t believe you just left me hanging after knocking me down to just two pictures! –Here!” She pulled a DSLR camera out of its bag and put both on the table. “Yours and Kevin’s are the only ones missing, have a look. I want this done, Andrew. We had a deal.” She pointed a painted nail at him. Neil had to say, he was impressed by how unfazed she was by the man who was Andrew Minyard. 

 

She turned back to Neil. “Alright, Neil, or whatever your name really is, have fun with the little monster’s _social media_. You might need that.” She pointed at the camera. “And don't get eaten.” He blinked at her and Andrew shot her a look, muttering something Neil didn't quite catch, but he understood that Andrew was mostly offended by her calling him little. “Oh, please,” she huffed. “See you tomorrow.” And then she left. 

 

Neil blinked a few times as the door closed behind her, leaving him alone with Andrew. 

 

“Social media manager,” he asked disbelievingly. Andrew just looked at him. “Just so you know, I’m the last person on earth you should ask anything about that,” Neil told him. One look at Andrew though told him that the goalkeeper’s mind was already on other things. Neil got up and stepped closer, leaving one arm’s length between them. Andrew had crossed his arms in front of his chest and kept looking at him. 

 

“What do you want to do?” The humor was gone from his voice. Neil tilted his head but didn't move closer. Andrew seemed so tense tonight; it made things harder. And Neil hadn’t forgotten that statement earlier. Andrew blinked once, looking Neil up and down. “Andrew?” The goalkeeper frowned, didn't say anything. Neil put his hands in his pockets. “Want me to leave?” He didn't know what to expect right now. 

 

 

_I hate this guy so much_ , Andrew thought. He had actually said it and the idiot had taken it the wrong way. He hated him for saying all those things Andrew liked to hear, for doing everything right. Of course, Neil also didn't get him. 

 

He reached out and the man in front of him didn't move back, just waited. He looked surprised when Andrew took his wrist and pulled his hand out of his pocket. The goalkeeper held his other hand out and Neil obediently offered his right wrist too. 

 

“Want to tie me up?” 

 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He would have asked if he had wanted to do that. He pulled a little and Neil came one step closer. “Leave them there,” he told Neil and closed the gap between them, with Neil’s arms around him and his hands touching his hair. He could feel those fingers running through it, almost shyly. 

 

“That okay,” Neil asked quietly. 

 

“Yeah.” Andrew leaned in and kissed him, letting go of Neil’s wrists. The man’s lips were as shy as his hands and Andrew needed to remind him who was kissing him, biting down on his lower lip, not having any of that restraint when it came to the only part he had not to think about. Neil got it then, pulled him closer and kissed back. This felt right, them kissing with Neil’s hands touching him. This was what he wanted and Andrew felt relief wash over him. He almost had to laugh a little, couldn't quite get rid of the grin that kept tugging at his lips. He put his arms around Neil and pushed him backwards until they hit the wall hard, while keeping one hand in Neil’s hair, so he wouldn't hit his head. The young man didn't protest, only pulled at his blonde stands a little tighter and kept kissing him. 

 

_Hate you, hate you_ … Andrew kept repeating, already knowing it was only half true, and ground his hips against Neil’s. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

>  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Rory, thanks for the gif! I actually recognized the guy in it and it made me grin like a silly fool in the middle of work when I saw it. - you made my day (well, night actually)! 
> 
> The lyrics used in this chapter are from  
> \- Lewis Del Mar's song **Loud(y)** , which I stumbled across in an Andrew tribute video by the very talented peachestrovosky a while back –I had that vid on loop for hours when I first found it. If you haven't, go check it out <3  
> \- Nothing But Thieves - **Trip Switch** (This band gives me such a Muse vibe, it's amazing) 
> 
>  
> 
> A little of background in this chapter, a few glimpses of some Foxes. Kevin is really important to Andrew in this story and he will stick around in the following chapters. Allison, I just like her. She and Renee are my favorite female characters. I know everyone prolly prefers Renee but sadly, she wouldn't fit the plot (she's just too awesome), while Allison and Andrew have a little background story I'll have to share later. 
> 
> finally: no one can say **'I hate you'** and make you smile like Andrew! It gets me every single time in the books.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter just adds some background to the whole story, filling in some gaps. more like chapter 5.5 maybe

Neil closed the door to Andrew’s apartment behind himself and ran a hand through his messed up hair. He licked his lips and went down the hall, took the elevator down, hands in his pockets, still thinking of Andrew. They had made out once again in the man’s living room until Neil had come from Andrew’s hand, and once again, Andrew had left him alone afterwards, declaring Neil’s job done. The black haired man had been paid and sent on his way and Neil had kept his mouth shut. He understood now, that Andrew handled things in his own way, taking baby steps. It was not Neil’s place to say anything about it. 

 

‘ _I hate you.’_ Well, fuck. That was hard to decipher. It hadn't been a joke. And the look in Andrew’s eyes… Still, the man didn't _really_ hate him –not in a I-want-to-rip-your-throat-out kind of way. Maybe it was because of what they were doing? Andrew clearly had issues –bad experiences most likely –and if the whole thing kept reminding him of those, Neil couldn't really blame him. Paying someone to get through this stuff and then tossing them aside, never looking back… well, yeah, why not. _Whatever works_ , he thought. _We aim to please_. He sighed. A red Ferrari passed him on his way home and Allison Reynolds grinned when their eyes met. He didn't smile, didn't wave, he just kept walking. 

 

Why did it bother him? He frowned. Because it was Andrew Minyard? So what? Did he want to ask the man for his autograph before they were done? Ridiculous. Did he want Andrew to keep calling him? How would that work? Once the man was done with him, once Andrew would be able to… to what? To have sex with him? To have sex with _someone_? Was he even sure the man couldn't have sex with another person because of his issues? Andrew had never said as much. But anyway, once Andrew was done with him, they would part ways. They had to. Neil would move on –hell, maybe he would have to run even before Andrew would be done with him. He couldn't predict that after all. The thought instantly soured his mood. He lowered his head, walked a little faster. Someone went past him a little too closely, bumped into his shoulder and Neil looked back when the guy cursed at him. “Fuck off,” he snarled back. Great. His hot temper was back, something he had never been able to get rid of. “Get a grip,” he muttered under his breath.

 

 

 

 

Allison passed ‘ _Neil or whatever your name really is’_ on her way back to the agency. Andrew’s new pet, she dubbed him and grinned. What else could she call him? Andrew didn't have friends. He had projects. Like Kevin, his never ending one –or like herself, maybe? That thought had a strange taste to it and she didn't quite like it. Still, there was a little bit of truth in it.

 

She had known Andrew Minyard for years now. They had both played for the Palmetto Foxes, alongside Kevin. The team had been a bunch of mismatches, fighting each other at least as much as any other team on the court. Things had been _problematic_ at best. It had taken their coach, nurse and psychiatrist to keep them together and even that had not lasted after they had lost a striker during the season. It had been the Foxes’ second striker in a row. It had also been her boyfriend, Seth Gordon. 

 

Seth had always been a trouble maker to begin with. He had been ill-tempered, easily provoked and a raging homophobe. He couldn't keep his mouth shut. He had been a drug addict and a depressed young man, and he just couldn't get along with anyone it had seemed. He also had a sweet and caring side, but he had been too good at hiding it. She had found out about it and it hadn't taken them long to get together. It hadn't lasted. They had been on and off all the time but they had loved each other. Apparently, they also had loved to fight, because they had been exceptionally good at it. They had been fighting the night he had died. She knew, because he had been on the phone with her, arguing, when it had happened. She had been screaming at him because he had been high and driving, while she had been in her room, keeping the other girls next door awake. She knew what had happened, it was no secret and the police report kept telling her the same thing. He had been distracted and had lost control of his car. The crash had nearly killed another man along with Seth. She could sometimes still hear her boyfriend’s voice screaming back at her and then, suddenly, that terrible noise of the two cars crashing into each other, when she woke up at night. 

 

The other girls of the team had found her that night and stayed with her on the way to the hospital. Seth had already been dead when they had arrived. That night was maybe her biggest regret of all. She couldn't get over it. 

 

Allison had struggled with bulimia before in her life, before joining the Foxes. After Seth’s death, she had relapsed. She had kept it a secret from the team. She wouldn't have been allowed to play anymore, if they had found out about it. The season had been over for them but without Exy, there would have been nothing left for her back then. Renee had found out but promised her to keep it a secret from Coach, Abby and Betsy. Renee and Dan had tried to help her to get through it, but she had been too far gone to listen. Her weight had kept dropping and she had kept blaming herself. 

 

It was only when Renee had gone to Andrew, asking him for help, that Allison had her first real encounter with the leader of the team’s monsters. She remembered a particular scene, with her sitting on the floor in her dirty clothes and ruined makeup, tears running down her face, looking up at Andrew and telling him ‘You are really fucked up beneath all those drugs, you psycho.’ And he had replied ‘Takes one to know one. You look pretty messed up yourself when the makeup comes off.’ 

 

He hadn't fixed her. She had done that herself, but he had shoved her into the right direction. That, and he had ranted her out to Betsy when she had been about to relapse again. Allison had never understood why Renee had stood up for Andrew, while the whole team had been split before Seth’s death. Afterwards, she had understood her a little better. Allison had done nothing to get the team united but she had kept her mouth shut when things got ugly and Matt and Kevin were at each other’s throats, until five foot even Andrew Minyard made the huge backliner back off. She hadn't said anything when Matt had complained to Dan about the monsters tearing the team apart. She remembered thinking ‘Team? What team?’ but she had said nothing. 

 

Her relationship with Andrew today was a strange one. They were not friends, they had never been. It was more like a business relationship really. She was a little afraid of him but then, most people were. He tolerated her with a stoic attitude that some people took for indifference. It was apathy but Allison knew that he kept an eye on her, even years after Renee had asked him to help her. She knew, because sometimes she got calls from Betsy and the timing was always too perfect to be a coincidence. The Foxes’ psychiatrist had parted ways with all of them back in Palmetto but she was still just a phone call away if you needed her. Allison thought this woman was a real life saver. 

 

Not many people knew, but Allison and Andrew lived in the same building. She had gotten him the deal when he had moved here to join the national team. He had not thanked her but he hadn’t needed to. It was just how they worked after everything they had been through. 

 

 

 

 

Andrew took off a pair of sunglasses as he entered the building. People turned in his direction, some intimidated, others not. His bad reputation usually won against his achievements as an athlete and people didn't approach him as much as his other teammates. Still, they pulled their phones out and took pictures of him, like tourists on a safari, facing a lion. He ignored them. 

 

Kids didn't follow this pattern. They were the exception. They saw him as the awesome goalkeeper, the last line of defense on the court, the hero who could save the game at the last minute. If he was very unlucky, some bald, skinny, ‘tragic’ cancer kid would walk down the corridor –or sit in a wheelchair– and recognize him. They would look up at him and smile, so goddamn happy to see him. Andrew found that mildly disturbing. The lack of caution in those kids, the honesty, the _hope_ … They still had their dreams, they were still fighting, even after life had dealt them a bad hand of cards. Had he been like that once? 

 

Hospitals were places where _tragedy_ was a frequently used word. Way more often than _miracle_. He didn't think either ever happened. Andrew didn't believe in miracles and people broke too easily, were too fragile, to call anything in here a tragedy. It wasn’t a tragedy that US national Exy team captain Kevin Day was in here, waiting for him. Yet he had come anyway. Summoned by the man, asking him to sit in during today’s consultation. Andrew wasn't looking forward to it. He had a meeting with his lawyer in two hours. Yet he had let Kevin pull on the leash they had both tied around their necks years ago. It was always push or pull with Kevin, they usually couldn't keep the same pace. 

 

Andrew found the room he had been looking for and entered without knocking. Kevin looked up from his phone, relief clearly visible on his face. Andrew hated that look, like he was some kind of solution. He couldn't fix Kevin’s problem. Not this time. They exchanged a short greeting, before Andrew claimed the chair next to Kevin and leaned back. Hopefully this would be over soon. They sat in silence until he got annoyed by Kevin’s fidgeting. 

 

“Why did you call me?” Andrew disliked hospitals. No, maybe he hated them. Still, here he was, sitting in an office with Kevin, waiting for his brand new, freshly imported team of physicians. 

 

“You speak German.” Kevin was nervous. He kept tapping his foot and Andrew was sure he didn't even notice it. 

 

“They are Austrian,” Andrew replied. 

 

“Austrians speak German,” Kevin said and Andrew could actually see how he had to think about that, checking his facts. _Yes, Kevin, full points_.

 

“They have a nasty accent.” Of course he would be able to understand them. It wasn't even true. Not all Austrians had a terrible accent. But why bother? He was sure they would be perfectly capable of speaking English to explain everything to Kevin. 

 

“I don’t know,” Kevin sighed. “Wouldn’t it be easier if they could explain to you what they are going to do? I feel like they would leave out details.” 

 

“Trust me, the only one leaving out details will be me, because I’m too bored to play interpreter for you.” Kevin had no time to complain, as two men entered the room. Young, Andrew thought when he first saw them. Kevin thought so too, it was written all over his face. 

 

“You must be Kevin Day. Nice to meet you,” the first man, tall, blonde, maybe in his early thirties, looked at Kevin. “Florian Hofbauer.” They shook hands. The other one, tall, brown hair and even younger looking took his place. 

 

“Sascha Schöller, nice to meet you.” These two wonder boys, made in Austria, promised to increase Kevin’s chances of a full recovery to up to forty five percent. They both specialized in physiotherapy and had been consulted in cases of injured olympic athletes before. Everything for the US national team’s star striker. 

 

“Nice to meet you,” Kevin managed. They certainly handled things a little differently overseas. This felt more like a meet and greet with fans, all smiles and hand shakes, no titles. 

 

“Oh! You are his teammate, right? The goalkeeper,” Florian said and turned to Andrew, offering his hand. Reluctantly, Andrew shook it. Without letting go, Florian turned to his colleague. Telling him about what he knew about Andrew. 

 

“What’s he saying,” Kevin hissed under his breath right next to Andrew. 

 

“He says he thinks I’m the shortest player in the US and maybe–“ Andrew replied, not lowering his voice. The man in front of him noticed and beamed at him. 

 

“Oh wow, you speak German! That’s cool. Oh, don’t take it personally, I meant it as a compliment. You see, Austria doesn't have a national Exy team yet and we…”

 

“I think you can handle them,” Andrew told Kevin and left the three to their devices, closing the door without looking back. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This place, Neil thought, it doesn't change. The furniture was still the same; big, black desk at the center of the room, two armchairs in front, one leather desk chair behind, that burgundy carpet and the distant noise of the music; it was all still the same. Not too long ago, he had entered this exact same office, following the man who was even now sitting at his desk across the room, while he leaned against the wall. Not too long ago, he had been nervous and on edge but strangely cold inside, about to face his first trick. 

 

He had not been afraid. His brain had already processed what had been about to happen. He had not been a naïve teenager. He had never had sex before but Neil never had illusions about some romantic first time with someone special to begin with. He had always thought his first time would eventually happen, probably with him still on the run, with some girl or guy, probably a complete stranger he would have met only hours before. He had imagined it as a physical release, a one-night stand, nothing special. He sure as hell had not imagined it to be perfect, with him lacking all the needed experience.

 

He had not been particularly disappointed about how it had actually turned out. A guy would fuck him in some gay club and pay him to do so. So what? Maybe he wouldn't enjoy it, he probably wouldn't even like it, but in all honesty, how bad could it be? He wouldn't agree to any kinky stuff. 

 

It had been the money. Neil had no illusions about that. It hadn't made him feel dirty. He came from a family of criminals, murderers, torturers. Prostitution was nothing far fetched or removed from his world, and doing it once wouldn't make him a whore. He would just take the money and… –He could see it all again happening in his memory with this perfect background in front of his eyes.

 

 

The door behind him closed. The man turned and looked at him, chuckled. “Relax, no need to be so nervous.” He went over to the desk and got rid of his suit jacket. Neil kept his eyes on him. The door wasn't locked. He could leave. 

 

“We will do this, you’ll pay me and I’ll leave,” he said. He needed to hear it. The man smiled. He wasn't bad looking and the air of confidence about him made him even more attractive. Still, he was too old for Neil. Old enough to be his father and that alone made him dangerous in his book. It was a weakness he couldn't get rid off. 

 

“I’ll pay you, _then_ we do this and then you can leave,” the German corrected him. Alright, even better. 

 

“I won’t take my clothes off. You can fuck me against the wall or over the desk.” 

 

“Alright. Anything else?” 

 

“No kinky shit.” The man took out his wallet and counted the money. 

 

“In any other situation, I would have asked you to define ‘kinky shit’ for me,” he said without looking up, just arching an eyebrow, “but I think I got your meaning.” He put the money on the table and slid it over in Neil’s direction.

 

 

 

“I heard you will lose a client this month.” Neil was jerked from his memory, turned around and looked at the man, who sat at his desk, still busy with paperwork. Paperwork concerning him, Neil realized. He blinked. 

 

“Yes. Seems like my client has overcome his fixation and has moved on. We’ll do one last scene this week.” Seemed like Alex was no longer working at his client’s office. Maybe he had been fired, maybe not. Neil didn't particularly care about the details. 

 

“Don’t worry about it. From what I’ve heard, it has nothing to do with you. He has been very pleased with your performance.” Neil cocked his head. He didn't care but it wouldn't do to say that out loud. Not here in this office. 

 

The German stacked some sheets of paper and put them aside, before looking at Neil with undivided attention. “That will be the last client of those I introduced to you, right?” Neil nodded. “Want me to find you a replacement?” 

 

“No. Not at this point. I appreciate the offer though.” 

 

“How long has it been,” the man changed the subject, “since we started this?” Neil thought about it for a moment. 

 

“Almost two and a half years.” Had it really been this long already? He hadn't even thought about it before. Two and a half years without running… 

 

“That’s right. Shame that I couldn't see you more often.” The man tapped the polished surface of his desk and Neil made his way over to him, sitting down on the edge. “Will you come home with me tonight?” 

 

“Do you want me to?” He didn't want to. He wanted to go home and think of Andrew. Somehow, the goalkeeper always managed to show up in his thoughts these nights. Not the client. Andrew Minyard the Exy player, who talked about games and didn't pay him when they met. He was a creature from Neil’s fantasy. The real man was nothing like him. His Andrew didn't use him, would never throw him away. 

 

“I always want you to. If it would be up to me, I would keep you there and never let you leave. You know that.” Neil felt the hairs on his neck rise. “Oh dear, don’t look so afraid. You know I would never do anything against your will. Besides, I have to leave again in two days. Something came up.” The man looked at him amused. Neil lowered his gaze. He hadn't meant to show his fear. “So, tonight?” 

 

“Yes.” It was unwise to say no. 

 

“Anything particular you want me to do to you?” The man leaned back and looked up at Neil sitting in front of him on the desk. 

 

“Not tonight.” He never wanted to but what he wanted and what he needed was not always the same thing. 

 

“Alright. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you. I’ll always take care of you.” 

 

“Danke.”* That word made him feel cold inside. _Always_ … 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation notes:  
> *"Thank you."
> 
>  
> 
> Not much Andreil going on this time but those two don't see each other that often. –I fear they wouldn't survive for long if they did ... ¬_¬


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...are you sober right now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all: Thank you SO much KizunaKitsuneUzumaki for cleaning this mess up for me! I love you! ♥︎ You are a ♕ (and everyone was thinking: wait - 'You are a _"Kevin"_??' oops!
> 
>  
> 
> And of course thank you, if you left me Kudos and/or took the effort to write me a comment. I read them all and they make my day much brighter :D

 

It was late. Neil had already gone to bed, when his phone vibrated next to his bed. When had he stopped turning it off during the night? Two weeks ago? Three? The day Andrew had suddenly texted him? Possibly, he admitted and reached down to grab the stupid thing. One text from Andrew. Only one word:

 

_‘tomorrow’_

 

Why wasn't he asleep? Neil rubbed his eyes and squinted at the screen. He had been stupid enough to leave his phone on. It would be pointless not to respond now. 

 

_‘okay. usual time/place?’_

 

He yawned and the phone buzzed again. 

 

_‘yes.’_

 

Well, okay then. Just as he had put it back down and turned around to find a more comfortable position, Andrew texted again. Curious, Neil reached for it again, lying on his stomach, fingers blindly searching for a moment. 

 

_‘I want this to become a weekly thing. y/n’_

 

“Hmm?” Why the sudden change of mind? They hadn’t even seen each other last week. Andrew had admitted that he had actually needed to convince himself to text him last time. This was odd. 

 

_‘yes’_

 

He wasn’t against it. They had proven that they could work together just fine the last time. Actually, he had expected Andrew to contact him sooner to be honest. He had been looking forward to it. 

 

_‘twice’_

 

Something was off. He hesitated before he typed his reply. 

 

_‘I’m taking a turn: are you sober right now?’_

 

It didn't even take a minute for Andrew to reply but it felt so much longer. 

 

‘ _no_.’ Interesting. ‘ _so?’_ He had known that Andrew was still using or maybe he was just drunk right now, Neil didn't know. It was, however, the first time for them to talk like this. He wondered what Andrew was like when he took something. Would he smile and laugh? He should have asked what the man was taking. It was none of his business but he wanted to know. He also wanted to use this chance to talk to Andrew for a little longer. 

 

_‘one condition: stop overpaying me’_

 

This might be stupid but it had actually started to bother him. He knew it was because he liked the man but he told himself that it was unprofessional to overcharge a client like that. 

 

_‘who’s gonna pay your rent if I pay you for kissing and hand jobs twice a week’_

 

Did that mean they would keep it that way? Had Andrew given up on doing anything beyond what they had already tried? He hoped not.

 

_‘I have other clients.’_

 

_‘I can afford you. stop seeing them’_

 

That again. They had talked about this already. He wouldn't change his mind. It was an absolute no go for him. 

 

_‘no.’_

 

_‘I hate sharing’_

 

“So you keep telling me,” Neil said out loud. He smiled half-heartedly. All the things he could read into this, all those bad romance clichés. He remembered watching Pretty Woman with his mother one night and scoffed. He had hated that movie back then and he still thought it stupid today. He had never read The Little Glass Slipper, but he was pretty sure that a modern version of Cinderella was some whore, sleeping with her drug dealer, and the happy end would be them OD’ing together –wait, nope, that part was Romeo and Juliet. Anyway…

 

_‘I’m not a thing. You’ll live.’_

 

It took Andrew a little while this time. Neil wondered if he was doing other things.

 

_‘MON+FRI’_

 

Hm, no that didn't work. He was still seeing someone on Sundays. Those scenes could get pretty intense and he really didn't want to do anything on Mondays. He liked his day off. 

 

_‘does tue/fri work for you?’_

 

He watched the three little dots appear on his screen and stared when he got Andrew’s reply. What the fuck? 

 

_‘do belt marks fade overnight nowadays?’_

 

It shouldn't bother him but it did. Somehow he had thought they were already past this. It was one thing for Andrew to make stupid remarks and look down on him at their first meeting. It was another now, after they had met. And what a stupid thing to say… The things he could say to that… He didn't answer. He turned the screen off and let the phone fall onto the bed beside him. “Asshole,” he mumbled. It fit though, didn’t it? He thought about it. I can afford you, I hate sharing… Andrew was still seeing him as a whore and technically, yes, he did sell himself. _You like him. That’s your problem. You want him to think of you as something else. You are an idiot._ He felt stupid for being angry. 

 

A few minutes went by and then his phone lit up again and vibrated next to him. The incoming call had Andrew written on the screen. It would be alright for him to ignore it, he told himself. It took him two more seconds to pick up. 

 

“What?” Neil sighed. 

 

“Are you really offended?” Andrew sounded amused. It made Neil even angrier. 

 

“Andrew, it’s late.” 

 

“Interesting. Does the truth usually offend you?” He should just hang up. Let the guy have his fun. What use was it to discuss anything with someone who was intoxicated anyway? He would just get an unusual reaction and it most likely wouldn't be one he wanted. 

 

“Truth?”

 

“You let yourself get beaten up and fucked for money. That’s the truth, isn't it?” Why couldn't he just drop it? 

 

“Here is one for you. You need to get high to ask someone like me to meet you.” Andrew laughed at that. It was the first time Neil heard him laugh. 

 

“Touché.” 

 

“I’m hanging up now.”

 

“Let’s go out for dinner.” Andrew said and Neil only got half of it.

 

“What? Dinner?” He put the phone back to his ear. 

 

“Or lunch, I don't care. I’m paying you.”

 

“In public?”

 

“Yes.” It sounded like he wanted to add an amused _what do you think_.

 

“No.” He wouldn't go out with Andrew. He would end up on pictures and people would ask stupid questions. He couldn't afford that. 

 

“Uh-hmm…You won’t explain that?”

 

“No.” He had said in the beginning that he would never explain why he wouldn't do certain things. Seemed like Andrew remembered that part. “Good night, Andrew.” He hung up. 

 

 

 

 

 

They met the next evening at Andrew’s place. The goalkeeper opened the door, looking rather disheveled in a dark gray t-shirt that clung to him in all the right places, displaying his strong upper body while pooling around his narrow waist. The goalkeeper’s trademark armbands covered his forearms, exposed for the first time since they started meeting like this. Black sweatpants, bare feet, and messy hair standing in various directions and falling into his pale face, gave him a just-out-of-bed look Neil couldn't deny he rather liked. 

 

“Did I wake you?” He himself had dressed the way he usually did for Andrew. Leather jacket over a t-shirt, black pants, either jeans or cotton - jeans today - and his leather boots, which were just at their perfect age, a little scuffed, old enough to get in and out without tying the laces but still in good shape. He was clean-shaven and freshly showered, his hair a little messy but it  suited his features , so he hadn’t bothered fixing it. 

 

Andrew just shrugged and opened the door all the way, before he turned around and let Neil in. He was rubbing his eyes and his movements were a little slower than usual. Neil was sure he had woken him. After closing the door and taking his shoes and jacket off, he found Andrew in the kitchen at the coffee machine. Neil studied his back, admiring the display of back and shoulder muscles under the soft fabric. This guy could throw a ball across the whole court with perfect aim. How many times had he fantasized about playing with him, being the backliner Andrew could rely on? There would be that little moment when Andrew would look at him, after catching a striker’s best shot, and he would know how goddamn fast Neil was. All it would take was that one look and Neil would dash across the field and Andrew would aim the ball high and his aim would be perfect and Neil would catch it, not caring that he was the backliner. He would take the shot and score, and the crowd would go wild. 

 

Andrew put two cups down onto the coffee table, claiming the sofa for himself, leaving Neil’s on the opposite side in front of one of the leather chairs. He took a sip, then leaned back, one arm resting on the back of the sofa and head falling back, glancing lazily from the ceiling down to his visitor. 

 

“You have that look on your face,” he said, voice a little scratchy. “What are you thinking about?” 

 

Neil blinked. He didn't know he had _a_ look. He grinned a little and shrugged. “Exy.” Andrew sighed and rolled his eyes before closing them for a moment. 

 

“Figures.” He took another sip of coffee, then returned the cup back to the table. “Two freaks of a kind. Same obsessed brain, same look…” 

 

Neil sat down opposite of Andrew. “Same as who?”

 

“Kevin,” Andrew said, as if it should be obvious. Neil couldn't help but tense a little when he heard that name. A name from his past, a name that haunted his nightmares of the present, a name that nevertheless inspired awe in his waking moments –awe and resentment and fear. He tried to evade and changed the topic. 

 

“It’s just daydreaming. I’m sure you do it too.” 

 

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t. Sure as hell not about Exy, though.” Neil cocked his head at that. 

 

“But you must like it. Exy, I mean.” He couldn't imagine someone being so good at something and not liking it. That was absurd. He would either have to love or hate it, there was nothing in between at that level. 

 

“Says who? It’s just a game.” Neil wanted to protest at that but when he opened his mouth, Andrew cut him off. “Do you even play?” He sounded tired.

 

“I played little league. Quit in high school. Never made it far.” 

 

“Any good?” It was a tricky topic for him. He could lie, but he wanted to talk about Exy with Andrew. He had always wanted to talk to him about Exy. He could talk about Exy all day if it was up to him. But it was dangerous. Too many details and Andrew would get clues and could figure out who he really was. He couldn't let that happen. He shrugged. 

 

“I guess. My parents never wanted me to play.” It wasn’t really a lie. His mother had not wanted him to play. His father had other plans for him in mind before he had decided to sell him to the Moriyamas. “I just couldn't live without it, I guess.” 

 

“So do you still play? You said you quit.” It somehow hurt to admit that he had run away from his team, from Exy. 

 

“Just once a week with a bunch of random guys.” He didn't mention the hours of training he did by himself. “I’m still a decent backliner.” He was a great backliner and he knew it. 

 

“Most people would aim for striker.” Yeah, most amateurs with big dreams about fame would. Striker, quarterback… all the same. They didn't really get the importance of a team sport; they wanted the attention. 

 

“I was trained to be a backliner. That’s where I had the most potential, I guess. Besides, a striker is worth shit if he can’t make it past the defense.” Andrew seemed unimpressed. He leaned back again, bored. 

 

“Why did you ask me if I was high?” He changed the topic suddenly. Neil changed gear just as fast. 

 

“You told me that you still use. It was a hunch.” Andrew didn't like to hear that, he could tell. He didn't know why though. The goalkeeper was silent for a while, just sitting there, eyes unfocused, staring somewhere above Neil’s head and Neil was happy just watching him for now. Minutes went by and then Andrew rubbed his eyes again and leaned forward, eyes on Neil. 

 

“I’m going to blow you today. Still yes?” 

 

“Still,” Neil agreed. Then he thought of something. “Before we start…” He grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it up to reveal a strip of bare skin just above his hipbone. Angry bruises bloomed there. They were two days old, caused by a wooden table he had leaned over. All the other marks of that night had faded, not being more than red lines of a rather gently used riding crop. Andrew might think every client got his kicks out of beating him but that was far from the truth. But Neil saw no point in correcting the man. He knew Andrew hated to share and he had clients before who refused to do scenes with him so soon after another. It ruined their fantasies. Neil thought Andrew must have seen enough bruises during his Exy career not to care thought. 

 

The goalkeeper had his trademark expression of boredom and annoyance fixed on his face. It seemed to be his special blend reserved for everything _Neil_ these days. He clicked his tongue but said nothing, though Neil could guess what he thought. You made your own bed… 

 

“I brought you these.” Neil pulled out three different brands of condoms from his pocket, two of each, and put them on the table. “Since you disliked the last one so much.” Andrew frowned down on them, maybe unsure what to say, Neil didn't know. Maybe it was the fact that one of them had chocolate printed on the wrapper. He stifled a grin and reached instead for another one, to push it into Andrew’s direction. 

 

“These taste like absolutely nothing.” He shrugged. “I use them all the time.” _Would have last time, if you had given me the chance_ , he added mentally. Andrew picked it up. Seemed like he didn't want to comment on any of this and Neil was fine with that. He just hoped Andrew wasn't embarrassed about what had happened last time. _No_ , he thought, _he isn’t_. But something wasn't quite right today. 

 

“Can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer.” Those hazel eyes looked back up at him, blonde eyebrows arching in a _go ahead_ expression. “Is something wrong? Or is this you when you come down from your drugs?” The goalkeeper thought about an answer, glancing sideways, curled his tongue and licked the inside of his teeth. Neil followed the movement with his eyes fixated on those slightly parted lips. He waited, not sure if he would get an answer. Then Andrew just shrugged. 

 

“Alright,” Neil said. It was. Even if Andrew seemed different today, it wasn't his place to worry. His client was calm and seemed alright otherwise. He got no sense of danger from him, no aggression, no nervous ticks, nothing. He got up and came around the table to stand in front of Andrew. The Exy player looked up at him lazily and it didn't take him long to reach out and run a hand over Neil’s flat stomach. Clever fingers found their way under the fabric and stroked his skin, seeking out marks. Andrew leaned forward, pushed the shirt upward and mouthed at the warm skin next to his bellybutton with his eyes closed. He licked and nipped while his hands found more skin. Neil looked down at him, at his pale, strangely gentle looking face and felt something very unprofessional at that moment. Andrew’s movements were slower than usual, calmer, gentler. _A little like a cat,_ Neil thought. 

 

“Can I,” he asked in a low voice, one hand inches away from Andrew’s hair. The hazel eyes slid open and closed again, with a sound of assent coming from his throat. Neil wound his fingers through the pale strands and ran his nails gently over Andrews scalp. It was a slow gesture, as slow as this moment, lacking the usual heat and hardness he had come to associate with Andrew. It made the goalkeeper shiver a little like he had hoped it would. It also made something ache inside of him. It was like a warning, screaming at him, telling him to stop this, to get a grip, to get away, to run because _this_ was dangerous. This was all his mother had always warned him about. This was getting attached, involved, trapped. He fought it down. He could handle this. 

 

Andrew opened his eyes and Neil thought he must have noticed his inner conflict and sudden unease, but the goalkeeper just took his free hand and pulled him down onto the sofa next to himself. While this wasn't really an unusual situation for Neil, to sit down next to another man and let himself be pushed backwards, until he lay on his back, having his legs arranged to comfortably fit them both on the sofa, it was the first time Andrew did this. Neil had come to expect and respect the lines Andrew drew while interacting with him, the distance he needed, the safety and control in the whole situation. Space was important to Andrew, personal space, the setting of the scene. His living room was his chosen playground and having Neil standing somewhere seemed always less intimate. 

 

Now, he was kneeling between Neil’s legs, bent forwards, supporting himself with one hand, using the other to touch Neil’s upper body. He took his time, hand above the shirt again, fingers finding his left nipple, rubbing it gently. Neil had his hands back in Andrew’s hair and pulled a little to get him to lean down and kiss him but the Exy player refused. Instead, he leaned down and kissed the small strip of exposed skin above Neil’s jeans. Neil reached down to take his shirt off but Andrew caught his hand in time. _Clothes on today_ , Neil thought and wondered if it was because of the bruises. There were none Andrew hadn't seen yet. He went back to playing with the goalkeeper’s hair. He was getting hard just from this. 

 

Andrew reached down and rubbed his erection through the fabric of the jeans and Neil let his eyes fall shut. He spread his legs a little wider and felt Andrew’s tongue dipping into his navel. The hand cupping him squeezed a little and Neil hummed low in his throat, moved his hips. He felt heat coursing through his body, more than a little foreplay like this should make him feel. Andrew kept teasing him like this and even though it felt good, too good, Neil was getting a little desperate. Andrew was too gentle with him today. It reminded him of his fantasies, and he tried his best to keep those locked up and out of the way. 

 

“Andrew…” He lifted his shoulders off the sofa and leaned forward, both hands in Andrew’s hair. He willed the man to look up at him, to stop –no, not to stop, to do _something_. When Andrew didn't look at him he laughed a little breathlessly. “You are such a tease today.” 

 

“Complaining again?” 

 

“No. Just…” He didn't know what to say. He leaned back again, eyes on the ceiling. He had a serious hard on by now and Andrew kept massaging it through his jeans. He wanted to reach down and adjust himself a little. The zipper had gotten in the way and it was getting uncomfortable. He hissed quietly. “Wait.” 

 

“What?” 

 

“The jeans. Just let me…” He reached down, only to have his hand pushed aside again. Neil frowned and looked down but Andrew seemed to have understood him and was already opening his pants and pulling the zipper down. His black boxer briefs couldn't hide his erection at all. Andrew got those out of the way too and left them halfway down Neil’s thighs. This proved to be impractical, so the jeans and underwear ended up on the floor beside them. Andrew leaned forward and took both of Neil’s hands. 

 

“Don’t touch me while I’m doing this,” he said and Neil could tell that it was important to him. He nodded. 

 

“I won’t.” Andrew regarded him with a searching look. 

 

“And try to keep still,” he added reluctantly. 

 

“I promise.” 

 

Andrew nodded. He pulled the condom out of his pocket. He hesitated for a second and then pushed Neil’s arms up above his head. The black haired man left them there and watched Andrew’s steady hands getting the condom onto him. The goalkeeper bent over him and kissed his six pack abs once more, looking up, raising his head a little to check on Neil’s hands again. He couldn't see them like this, Neil realized, and trust was still a big issue between them. 

 

“Wait.” Neil crossed his forearms behind his lower back, so Andrew wouldn't have to check again. “Is this okay?” Andrew nodded once. Then he leaned down again and gave Neil’s erection a curious lick. Glad that he seemed satisfied with the taste, or rather lack of, this time, Neil leaned his head back again and concentrated on holding still. The thought was nearly wiped from his mind, as Andrew took hold of him and swallowed him whole. 

 

“Fuck,” he got out, his face a mask of disbelief and pleasure. He felt Andrew sucking hard and dug his fingernails into his forearms to keep still. “Andrew,” he moaned. He bit his lower lip as Andrew’s clever mouth started to play with him. It felt so damn good; he could barely keep from moving his hips. Andrew’s other hand held him in place but snaked upwards when he was sure Neil wouldn't move. It found his nipple again and twisted, making Neil gasp and his toes curl. 

 

Neil’s mouth fell open and he moaned again, as he felt Andrew going lower again, felt his throat work. “Oh god,” was all he could manage. He desperately wanted to get his hands on Andrew, encourage him, reward him, anything, but he couldn’t. Andrew’s mouth was doing things to him he had only felt once before and it was driving him crazy. He was getting closer to his climax with every lick, every drag of the man’s lips, every time he swallowed. 

 

“Andrew I’m so close,” he moaned and when the blonde hummed around him in response, he was done for. “Ah!” His muscles tensed and locked up and Neil was a little proud when he managed to keep still, even though all his hips wanted to do was buck up into that delicious heat. He shuddered and looked unseeingly at the ceiling, while Andrew sat back up and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. 

 

The goalkeeper looked pleased and Neil felt an overwhelming rush of pride because of that. He could see how hard Andrew was already. Neil knew that Andrew was going to leave him here now to take care of himself, but he wanted him to stay. 

 

“Kiss me,” he said and looked up at the goalkeeper. He didn't know what Andrew saw in his face at that moment that made him pause, before he leaned back down and kissed Neil hard. Neil pulled his aching arms out from behind his back but left his fingers inches away from Andrew’s hair. He didn't know if he had his permission and his mouth was too busy to ask at the moment. Andrew took one of his hands and answered his question for him, leading it into his hair. Neil thanked him by kissing down Andrew’s jaw and neck and when he felt the man above him shiver, he moved up again and nipped at his ear. 

 

Andrew reached for Neil’s other hand and placed it on his shoulder. It made Neil pause before he heard the goalkeeper’s low voice. 

 

“Only above the shirt.” Neil nodded. Another piece of Andrew’s body free for him to explore. It made his throat tight with all those unspoken words he knew Andrew wouldn't like to hear. Instead he used his new freedom and explored Andrew’s broad chest and strong shoulders. His fingertips found hard six pack abs below the fabric and he followed them down admiringly. Below the navel, he reached behind Andrew’s back and followed his spine back up. The man was gorgeous, he had known that, but now he could feel it too. He rubbed his cheek against Andrew’s neck. 

 

“Andrew,” he asked barely above a whisper. 

 

“Hm?” Andrew was pulling at his hair, so he could kiss him again. Neil followed his wish and waited until their mouths separated again. 

 

“Stay here.” It was a gamble, he knew. Andrew had already given him more than he had expected today. The Exy player frowned and leaned back a little. “Yes?” He ran his fingers down Andrew’s chest before he took his hands back. “Or no?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was absolutely NO good moment to cut this chapter in half. The original thing that four more pages, with two more I was ready to cut off already - a mess. So... yea... okay, it's a cliffhanger. -_-' BUT it's sweet one! so don't hit me - ...pls?


	8. Chapter 8

 

“Yes?” Neil ran his fingers down Andrew’s chest before he took his hands back. “Or no?” _Damn this guy…_ This had gone so well until now. Even though Andrew could still feel the aftermath of last night’s high, the dull feeling that wouldn't leave him for a while, this meeting had gone down surprisingly smoothly. He could say no. Maybe he should. End it on good terms for once and continue later this week. He could. But he also wanted more; wanted to push his limits with the man lying below him and see how far this would go. _Dammit_. 

 

He leaned in and kissed Neil again, delaying his answer. Neil’s mouth was hot and inviting, his skin under the fabric of his shirt warm; a plane of firm, lean muscles covered in ruined skin that spoke of violence and survival. Who was this guy? Why was he so interested in him? Why did he think of him when Neil wasn't around, even when sex was not on his mind? He knew next to nothing about this man. Andrew knew he was in trouble. He knew he liked this guy. It made him angry, but that changed nothing. The fact that his drugged brain had convinced him that he needed to talk to Neil last night was a warning sign with hazard lights flashing on top. 

 

His body didn’t seem to care though. He was still hard from giving Neil a blowjob, from making him lose control and moan his name. He could get up now and finish this in his bathroom. He was sure, it wouldn't even take him five minutes with those memories still fresh on his mind, but doing it here… He frowned again and bit down on Neil’s lower lip, a little too harshly. He could feel those gentle fingers grabbing his hair in response, pulling and letting go again, when he ran his tongue over the abused lip almost apologetically, but in truth to make sure he hadn't broken the skin and drawn blood. 

 

Andrew knew what could happen if he stayed and things went wrong. He could black out for a second. It would be enough. He knew what kind of damage he could cause in a short amount of time in this close proximity. One wrong move from Neil, one careless touch, one flashback and he could seriously hurt the guy. He even wore his single remaining knife out of habit right now. He had returned the others to Renee on the day their ways had parted again; but she had insisted that he kept at least one of them. He had. 

 

Somewhere between kissing, stalling for time, and trying to make up his mind, Andrew felt those hands leaving him, and he noticed Neil getting rid of the used condom. Right, he had forgotten about that. Well, problem solved. Neil was efficient enough to avoid any kind of awkwardness. Those strong arms encircled his neck again, one hand tangling in his hair, the other holding onto his shoulder, while Neil leaned up and kissed his neck again. It made the short hairs on Andrew’s neck raise and his skin prickle. He _liked_ it, but it could get a little overwhelming at times. Right now, it made his cock twitch. Dammit, if Neil ever found all of his sensitive spots he would be a shuddering mess in this man’s arms. The thought was provocative, somehow enticing, but also ridiculous. The chances of him being able to experience that were next to nothing. 

 

Neil’s fingers followed his trapezius down and dug into the taught muscle next to his spine. It caused the sweet kind of pain of having a sore, post workout muscle massaged. Andrew flexed his shoulders and leaned into the touch, seeking more. He could feel Neil’s lips curl upward into a smile on his neck but he didn't protest as the man’s other hand joined his left on the other side of his spine and copied the motion. It felt too good. How many times had he seen his teammates getting massaged after workouts or matches, knowing he would never allow a stranger to touch him like that? It was those simple things that reminded him of how much he was missing in his life, of how different he really way. 

 

He put a hand on the back of Neil’s neck and pulled him back a little. Their eyes met and Andrew didn't look away, because he needed to make sure that he would get his point across right now. 

 

“Listen,” he said and Neil’s fingers stopped moving and his hands came to rest on Andrew’s back, “if I–” What? If he freaked out? If he attacked the man in front of him for no apparent reason? He had tried this only once before and it had ended badly in a painful, bloody way that had kept him from trying again. 

 

“If you try to hurt me,” Neil guessed, reading his goddamned mind, sounding so calm and serious about it. _I hate you._ Andrew frowned down on him, anger rising. But Neil had his answer and nodded. “I’ll be ready,” he said. _No, you won’t._

 

There was no backing off now. He thought about getting off the sofa, about changing their position, but he didn't want Neil on top of him and even standing next to each other, with Neil being taller than him, made Andrew worry that it would make things worse. Right now he had Neil below him and maybe that wasn't the most favorable position for the young man to defend himself, but Andrew would need one arm to keep his balance and the other to touch himself. 

 

He leaned down and kissed Neil once more and the taller man didn't hesitate to kiss back. 

 

“Can I touch you?” Could he? Andrew wasn't sure. Would it help or do the opposite? He didn't know. 

 

“Just my hair,” he said and Neil nodded. Andrew could feel those blue eyes looking at him, searching his face for changes and warning signs. Andrew wasn't even sure if he would have those. People always told him that he was hard to read. He didn't like to be watched while he was doing anything sexual; he didn't feel confident about, but he also needed Neil to watch him closely this time. It was uncomfortable and he kept his eyes above Neil’s head, staring at the sofa for now. He wasn't sure this would work. He was getting too nervous about the whole thing. 

 

“Hey,” Neil said quietly and Andrew looked down at him. “It’s okay. No rush. Just come back here for a sec.” He reached up and gently pulled Andrew down into another kiss, fingers running over the goalkeeper’s scalp. Andrew followed his request willingly, relaxing a bit into the familiar feeling of Neil’s lips moving against his own. His hand moved without him thinking about it. It found Neil’s chest and rubbed one of his scars through the shirt before his fingers found an already hard nipple and started teasing it. Neil hummed against his lips, his tongue finding Andrew’s. The goalkeeper pinched him and Neil gasped, arching his back a little, body as responsive as usual. _Do you really like pain_ , Andrew wondered not for the first time. He didn't think so. How much of all of this was acting? 

 

And then Neil was reaching down, grabbing a fold of Andrew’s pant leg and pulled a little to get his attention, without breaking the kiss. Andrew let him and followed the pull, until their legs were re-arranged with one of Neil’s between his and the taller man pulling again, down this time, until he felt Andrew sliding down against his raised thigh. He let go of Andrew’s sweatpants then, returning to just touching his hair, leaving it up to Andrew to move against him if he wanted to. Andrew closed his strong thighs around Neil’s leg and moaned a little, grinding his hips against Neil, while keeping their upper bodies apart. He was hard again, and it didn't take him long this time to reach into his pants and close his hand around his own erection. He still used Neil’s leg for pressure and friction and kissed the man one last time before he drew back, so Neil would remember and watch out for himself. 

 

He could feel unwanted memories lurking somewhere in the back of his mind. They were tightly attached to the worry that he could hurt the man in front of him. He couldn't get rid of them without disregarding his caution, and he couldn't afford that most of all. Andrew tried to concentrate on Neil, tried to remember making him come in all those little details his mind usually provided him with. He inhaled deeply, smelling the mixture of the lingering scent of body wash and post sex sweat on Neil and looked down at the man. 

 

Neil was watching him closely, eyes on Andrew’s face, no traces of worry in his expression but no dismissive smile either. Andrew avoided his gaze again quickly, grimacing a little, because he couldn't hold it and it felt like a failure he couldn't hide. He looked down at his own hand, half hidden inside his sweat pants, moving up and down with harsh movements. He was never gentle with himself. He had noticed it again, when he had been touching Neil, watching the young man’s responses. He instinctively touched him more gently than himself. 

 

His gaze got caught on something else. He couldn't figure out what right away. It took him a moment to link that rising, cold feeling with the image he saw, but when it clicked in place, it was like a punch to the gut. It was the image of a naked lower body with another man on top of it, a shirt partly pushed upward to reveal bruises underneath and a hand grabbing an erection. It was a picture from another time, parts of a memory, distorted, overlapping a child’s body with that of a young man and Andrew couldn't look away, even as his eyes widened in horror and his throat tightened against the threatening nausea. 

 

_Not real_ , he told himself, _it’s not the fucking same._ He was going to be sick. He fought it down –everything. He wanted all of it gone. This whole situation felt so disgusting, he couldn't stand it. 

 

 

 

Neil watched Andrew closely and caught the moment the man above him lost his touch with reality for a second. He prepared himself for violence, to fight off any demons Andrew was battling at the moment, but none was forthcoming. Instead, he saw Andrew fall apart on top of him, saw him shudder and heard a pathetic sound escaping his mouth that reminded him of a strangled sob. He took his hand from Andrew’s hair and pushed himself halfway up with one arm, frantically searching for words. Andrew’s hand was still between his legs but his erection was completely gone. He couldn't see the goalkeeper’s face. The man was tense and didn't move. He looked like he was ashamed. _That’s what you get for pushing him_ , Neil told himself. 

 

He wanted to tell Andrew that he had no reason to feel ashamed, but he knew the man wouldn't listen. No man had ever listened to that argument with his limp dick in his hand. _Dammit_. Neil sat up all the way and Andrew sat back on his heels, his face a terrible blank mask that didn't display any of the emotions he must have been feeling right now. _Not your fault_ , Neil wanted to tell him. _I made you try_. He pulled his leg free from beneath Andrew and cocked his head a little, willing the goalkeeper to look at him but Andrew didn’t.

 

“Get dressed,” were the first words out of Andrew’s mouth, quiet and flat, concealing every emotion underneath. Neil did as he had been told, then sat down again, keeping some distance between them. He didn't want to leave Andrew like this. Not while the man wouldn't even look at him. 

 

“Andrew,” he began, uncertainly. _Don’t beat yourself up_. The goalkeeper stood up, shoulders and back tense. He stalked over into the kitchen, grabbed a glass, cupboard door slamming shut with a resounding bang, and filled it with water at the sink. Neil got up slowly and crossed the room halfway, watching him. The goalkeeper drank half of the water, one hand braced against the kitchen counter. 

 

“Leave,” he told Neil without turning around. Neil grimaced but didn't move. Andrew waited a moment, then turned and glared at him. “I said _leave_ ,” he growled. 

 

“Andrew, let’s just–“ The half-empty glass flying across the room and smashing into the far wall, showering the sofa with water and broken pieces made him shut up. 

 

“Get the fuck out,” Andrew hissed. Neil could tell he wanted to be intimidating as he came back into the living room, facing Neil, trying to get him to back off. It almost worked and he took halt a step back. 

 

“Hey…” This was getting out of hand. Andrew was overreacting. 

 

“Out,” he repeated. “We are done. Take your money and go. What the fuck are we even doing?” He was furious, and Neil could see the aversion in his face. 

 

“Calm down. Why are you trying to twist this into something ugly?” He needed to calm him down. He understood that Andrew didn't want to be seen like this, no one would, but he needed to understand that it didn't matter. 

 

“Twist it? This whole thing is disgusting,” Andrew snarled and Neil felt hurt and resignation welling up inside against his better judgment. A client’s words shouldn't hurt him like that. 

 

“I’m sorry you feel that way.” The goalkeeper didn't want to listen. He growled and turned around, about to run away once again. This needed to stop. Neil couldn't let him hide right now. 

 

“Andrew, wait!” He reached out to grab Andrew’s shirt. He couldn't just let him leave like this. But before he even made contact a blinding pain exploded inside his head, making him see stars. Andrew’s elbow had hit him in the face and had him stumbling backwards, crashing into the wall. He must have blacked out for a few seconds, because the next thing Neil noticed was that he was sitting on the floor, making out Andrew’s blurry shape in front of him. 

 

“Hey. Can you hear me?” Yeah, he heard him and he was about to fucking shout at him for hitting him in the face, because the pain made his temper flare up through the dizziness. And then he remembered what had actually happened and all he did was curse at himself. He touched his aching face, covering it with his hand. Blood was dripping from his nose, down his chin onto his shirt. Andrew had shut up and just looked at him in a mix of anger and concern. 

 

“I’m fine,” Neil managed to get out and winced. He tilted his head back. The taste of blood in his mouth was thick and nauseating and he wanted to spit. Instead he swallowed hard. Andrew didn't seem convinced at all. He reached out to pull Neil’s hand away. He couldn't see how bad it actually was with his hand covering half of his face and blood running through his fingers. 

 

“Let me see. Did you bite your tongue?” He would think so with the slur in his words. Out of reflex, Neil jerked his head back when he saw Andrew’s slightly blurry hand reaching for his face. The goalkeeper cursed, pulled his hand back and let it hover in the air between them awkwardly, unsure what to do in the situation. “Did I break your nose? Talk to me, dammit!” 

 

“I said, I’m fine.” He realized it wasn't the most convincing argument he had ever made with all the blood running down his face. Carefully, he pinched his nose but it wasn't broken. Thank god for small favors. “You just caught me off guard.” He was still angry with himself for being such an idiot. 

 

Andrew’s face came back into focus glaring at him, more anger than concern this time. “Move your hand,” he ordered, still crouching in front of Neil. 

 

“No, Andrew, it’s dripping everywhere.” Besides, it hurt like a bitch and the pain had made his eyes water. “Just give me a minute.” With an annoyed growl, Andrew stood back up, went into the kitchen and grabbed a clean dishtowel. He threw it at Neil. The dark haired man took it and wiped at the blood on his face. “Calm down. It’s just a bloody nose.” 

 

“I could have–“

 

“You didn’t,” Neil cut him short. “I’m _fine_.” 

 

“You are not fine,” Andrew screamed at him. 

 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Neil glared back at him. He used the wall for support and got back onto his feet. Wiping at the blood under his nose one more time, he took the towel away and let Andrew see his face. “Just shut up!” The goalkeeper gritted his teeth. “Do I really have to tell you that I’ve had worse? Huh? Do you need to hear that?” He took a few steps forward to close the gap between them but Andrew wouldn't have it. 

 

“Get the fuck out.” His voice was cold as ice.

 

“You know what? Fine!” Neil threw the bloody towel at his feet and turned around. He couldn't do this right now. He needed to get a grip. He went down the hall and slammed the apartment door shut behind himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (…)  
> \- Andrew, did you hit Neil? 
> 
> \- Neil? Who’s Neil? You mean _that guy_? Yeah… yeah, I did. 
> 
> \- After I told you not to? 
> 
> \- Huh? No. After _I_ told him I could. 
> 
> \- Oh, nevermind then. Move along.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> social call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there... there's a lot going on in this chapter. The story is picking up the pace in the next few chapters. I'm sure you won't mind.

The door fell shut and Andrew didn't move for a long moment. This was getting out of hand. Not the part where he had hit Neil. Andrew was no stranger to violence by any means. He knew both sides of it intimately. He had a strangely detached relationship to violence in general. It didn't faze him like it should –except when it did just now. Feeling guilty was something Andrew despised. How many times had he attacked some of the closest people in his life –his family, Kevin, his other teammates –intentionally or by accident without regret? And now, even after spelling it out for the guy, even after telling him _‘I might hurt you_ ’ like some kind of insurance, he felt guilty for nearly breaking his nose. That idiot hadn't even touched him. He had tried to, true, but he hadn’t. He could have stopped. He could have realized at the last second. Could have, would have… didn't matter. He hadn't given him the chance this time, hadn't waited. 

 

‘ _Do I really have to tell you that I’ve had worse?’–No, but thanks for the reminder that you compare me to whoever left those scars on your skin_. That had hit home. Nice. _Look at you, getting in touch with those feelings_. Maybe he had been a little shaky after thinking of Drake. Maybe he still was. Andrew took a deep breath and exhaled through his nose. Still there. Fuck him. Getting haunted by the memory of a dead guy. 

 

Drake, his foster brother, who had raped him as a child and once more when Andrew had been twenty, had been killed during his last deployment as a marine. Andrew would have liked to congratulate the man who had finally offed the bastard on a job well done. 

 

Andrew tried to force those memories down once again, but they had already festered in his brain, corrupting his thoughts. He had two options for nights like this. Andrew chose the more unlikely one, because he felt like being unpredictable for a change. He took his phone and called Kevin. The striker picked up on the second ring. 

 

“Andrew?” Noise in the background, somewhere public. 

 

“Where are you?”

 

“I’m meeting Thea for dinner. Why?” Too bad. 

 

“Nevermind.” He was sure Kevin could hear nothing in his voice. Andrew, on the other hand, could hear in the way Kevin hesitated that his teammate had seen through him though. 

 

“…Should I come home?” It was their unspoken agreement. It had started when they came here to join the US Court. Suddenly, everything had changed; their teammates, the city they lived in, the university dorms they had traded for apartments… everything except themselves. They had dragged their demons along and moved in with them. After sharing a room for so long, it had been strange. Kevin had turned back to alcohol for a while and Andrew had started to self-medicate. One night, they had met at a bar. Kevin had already been drunk and Andrew had dragged him outside and into his car. It had been Kevin who had asked him to stay that night because he couldn't stand the empty apartment. 

 

Andrew had stayed. He had done so three more times during the next two months, and Kevin stopped drinking again. He stayed over twice more since then, but it hadn't solved his drug problem. It just took the edge off sometimes; knowing that he _could_ make the ten-minute drive and have his old roommate under the same roof again. Not tonight though. 

 

“Don’t be an idiot.”

 

“You sure?” Kevin was many things –arrogant, single-minded, obsessed with the game they played, a sadist on the court –but Kevin wasn’t cruel. Not intentionally, at least. It had been beaten out of him at Castle Evermore. He was loyal, if not always reliable. He would send Thea home tonight if Andrew asked him to, if he so much as hinted at it.

 

“I’m sure.” Andrew hung up. Option two then. If anyone asked him, Andrew would not admit to having a drug problem. The thought would amuse him though, after years of supervised medication. ‘Chemically imbalanced brain,’ someone had once said to him. Too bad no one knew what a chemically balanced brain in his case looked like. So they had meddled. 

 

It was an open secret that a large percentage of the nation was overmedicated. Popping pills had become the answer to almost every problem. The list of long-term side effects of psychiatric drugs was endless, but while some people were busy adding their findings to the bottom of that list, others were just as busy erasing them at the top. Either way, the damage was done, and Andrew didn't much care about the consequences. 

 

The wooden box standing on the sideboard under his big flatscreen was never empty. Neither was the medicine cabinet in his bathroom. He kept both well stocked. The box didn't look like much. It had once been a gift, part of some kind of advertisement deal, containing a bottle of overpriced scotch. The bottle was long gone but he had kept the box. Grabbing his cigarettes first, Andrew opened the window and leaned against the wall next to it. He gave Drake time to fuck off, until he’d throw the cigarette butt out the window. After that, he’d make him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Neil lowered his head and sniffed. The bleeding had stopped. He angrily hurried on his way home. People kept looking at him. Well, of course they did. There was blood on his shirt and on his face, and he wore the fitting, dark expression that told of a fight. 

 

He’d just left the station closest to his apartment when his phone buzzed. He pulled it out immediately, looking for the name on the screen that wouldn't leave his thoughts. Andrew, Andrew… The text wasn't from Andrew. 

 

_‘Sehen wir uns morgen Abend?’*_

 

The German. He was back already? Neil didn't want to reply but he had to. 

 

_‘Ich kann morgen nicht. Sorry.’_ He didn't feel sorry at all; not for declining, not for lying about it. He just couldn't face the man right now. 

 

He jogged the last two minutes to his apartment, and fumbled with the keys at the door. He shrugged his jacket off and pulled the dirty shirt over his head as soon as the door closed behind him. The blood on it was already almost dry. Neil went into the bathroom and inspected the damage on his face. His nose looked fine but there was a bruise beneath his left eye. Shit. He washed the blood off his face, left the shirt in the sink to soak in cold water for a while, and stepped into the shower. 

 

His mind returned to the scene at Andrew’s apartment. He had royally fucked that one up. He should have left after the blowjob like Andrew had wanted him to. He should have given the man the satisfaction of getting one step closer to his goal –whatever that might be –and leave everything else for another time. The sound Andrew had made when he had been on top of him… he could still hear it, that half-sob. He could still remember him shuddering. It made something in his gut clench in sympathy. 

 

After cooling his head on his way home, Neil didn't mind the hit he had taken. The fact that Andrew had minded was enough for him to let it go. What remained was the question: would Andrew want to see him again. _‘This whole thing is disgusting.’_ He had meant it. The revulsion at that moment had been palpable. Neil closed his eyes and let the water hit his face. Disgusting. Really? All of it? Part of it? Which part? The part where Andrew was paying for a prostitute? The fact that he had issues he couldn't talk about? _‘This whole thing…’_ Liar. Liar, liar, liar… Takes one to know one, and Neil was the king among liars. –Or was he? 

 

He had offered Andrew more of the truth than he had given to anyone in years. He kept his lies with the man to a bare minimum. Normally, he would have constructed a fake persona for the goalkeeper after their first meeting, would have given him a false name, a bunch of lies that made up enough of a background story to keep Andrew at a distance and Neil at ease. It was his safety net. The clients didn't find out about him and he kept himself removed. It worked both ways. But he had given Andrew _Neil_. While Neil was only part of Nathaniel Wesninski, it was the part Neil had chosen to keep. He had tried to outrun the rest of him. What had he been thinking to give Andrew that name? 

 

Because Andrew Minyard was special to him. _His_ Andrew Minyard was special, he reminded himself. The goalkeeper of the US Court, the face showing up in magazines, the prodigy standing in the goal, the man who had been at Kevin Day’s side since the day those two met in Palmetto. The man he envied, the guy who had everything. 

 

This Andrew Minyard was nothing like him. Then why did he get attached to this version of him too? It should have been the opposite. It should have shattered his dreams. Expectations were a silly thing. All they ever did was disappoint. 

 

Maybe it was all over now. If Andrew didn't contact him again, this would be the end of it. The thought alone woke something in him that had the familiar taste of panic to it. Actual fucking fear, dreadful and promising emotional pain. Why? Because he had gone too far and now he was trapped. 

 

Neil shut the water off and stepped out of the shower. He left the shirt where it was; he would wash it later. He grabbed a towel and dried himself off half-heartedly, then flung the towel onto the bed. He got dressed in sweatpants and a hoody and went over to his fridge to make himself something to eat. The sandwich was gone before he even realized it. He couldn't appreciate his food tonight. His thoughts where a mile away. He felt restless and tired at the same time. Eyeing his racquet over his shoulder, he gave in to the familiar pull of his obsession. Better than drugs, better than sex, Exy would always be his way out of his own head. The day his body wouldn’t let him play anymore would be the day he wanted to die. Neil turned around, grabbed his keys, tied his shoes, and took a ball and his racquet with him on his way out, letting the door fall shut behind him. 

 

Two hours and what felt like a never-ending repetition of drills later, he opened the same door again. He closed it none too gently and kicked off his shoes. He left the ball there but couldn't let go of his racquet. He was still thinking of _him_. He had gone through every drill he knew, had run suicide sprints and had taken shots at an empty goal until his arms screamed in protest at him. What made things worse was that he now was actually worrying about Andrew. How fucking stupid. He had thought about the phone he had left at his apartment, wondering if he would miss a text from the goalkeeper, while all his thoughts should have been on his practice. Of course there was nothing. Why would there be? Because he wanted it to be there. 

 

He twirled the racquet in his right hand, made it spin, and grabbed it again. _Go to bed_ , he told himself. _Sleep it off_. He took another quick shower to get rid of the sweat he had worked up. The moment his head touched his pillow he already knew that sleep wouldn't come easily tonight. By the time he gave up, it was almost midnight. 

 

Very well aware of the fact that he might be about to make the biggest mistake in his life, Neil got up and dressed again and left his apartment. 

 

Forty five minutes later he was standing across the street from Andrews place. He made sure he was standing on the illuminated sidewalk visible from Andrew’s living room when he texted the man. 

 

‘ _Can I come up?’_ He waited. Andrew was home and still awake. He could see the lights burning in those windows and it didn’t even take a minute for Andrew to show up behind one of them. Neil had one hand in his pocket, a plastic bag dangling from his wrist. He cocked his head and looked up at the goalkeeper. 

 

Andrew kept watching him but didn’t write back. Neil shrugged exaggeratedly at him. It was Andrew’s call. He saw the goalkeeper nodding at his door over his shoulder before he turned around and vanished from Neil’s sight. Hurrying inside, Neil took the waiting elevator up and found Andrew leaning against his half open door, waiting. He still wore the same clothes, had the same messy hair, and Neil was sure he hadn’t left this place since they had seen each other earlier.

 

“Hey,” he offered in way of greeting and studied the man in front of him. _You are a mess, aren’t you?_ Even in the dark hallway, Andrew’s pinpoint pupils spoke volumes. Those hazel eyes just stared at him in their unnerving way. Neil smiled a little and lifted the bag he was carrying. “I brought bribes.” Sadly they didn’t have Andrew’s favorite flavor, but cookie dough caramel ice cream still sounded a lot like a child’s sugar overload dream to him. Andrew didn’t move and remained silent. Neil sighed a little. 

 

“Look, I came to apologize. What happened tonight has been my fault. I shouldn’t have pushed you like that. I was out of line. I’m sorry.” He hated the thought that Andrew was alone at night getting high because of something he had done. “Just…” He shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know. That’s it I guess. I thought you might not call again, so I came here to tell you. I’m sorry, Andrew.” That was all he had to offer and maybe it was not enough. _I wish I could read your mind right now_. He lowered his head a little and put his hands back into his pockets, as he took a step back. At the same time, Andrew backed off too and opened the door wider. Neil hesitated, waited for either an invitation or a dismissal, but Andrew simply turned around and went back inside, leaving the door open. Neil followed him, saw the whiskey glass in the goalkeeper’s hand that had be hidden behind the door. Andrew emptied it and left it on the breakfast bar.

 

Neil took a look around, found the open wooden box on the coffee table, and saw the little plastic bags and pill bottles inside. Andrew saw him looking and smirked. He reached out a hand and Neil handed the bag over. Inspecting its contents, Andrew went into the kitchen and grabbed two spoons. He came back and climbed onto the sofa, grabbing one of the two pints and opened it. Neil watched him eat the ice cream, looked again at the bottle of painkillers next to the half empty bottle of scotch on the coffee table. _Geez, Andrew…_ His dismay must have been visible on his face because the goalkeeper tapped the spoon against his lips while he studied Neil. He extended one of his legs and closed the wooden chest with his bare foot. The sound of it snapping shut was unpleasantly loud in the too quiet apartment. Neil slowly made his way over to the sofa.

 

“Tongue-tied?” he asked, because Andrew always kept too much to himself and that was fine when they were doing business, because that was Andrew’s choice after all. But this was a social call and so Neil could be a little selfish. 

 

“Black-eyed?” Andrew answered and Neil touched the bruise over his left cheekbone.

 

“It’s fine,” he replied. Well, maybe it wasn’t _fine_. Bruises on his face couldn't be hidden. People noticed, meaning people paid him more attention. But it would fade. He shrugged, ran his fingers through his hair, and thought carefully about his next words. He sat down at the other end of the sofa, watching out for pieces of broken glass but they were gone. 

 

“I won’t do anything with you tonight, even if you wanted to,” he said slowly. Andrew had returned his gaze back to his ice cream as soon as _fine_ had come from Neil’s lips. “But I’m going to tell you something, because I think you might actually need to hear this.” He waited and said nothing, until Andrew finally looked at him again and he had his undivided attention. 

 

“There is nothing you need to hide from me. You can tell me about anything you want to do or have done to you. It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks about it. It doesn't matter if it will turn out the way you thought it would. If I agree to do something with you and I do it wrong, that’s on me. You can tell me and I’ll try to make it right. But you _never_ have to justify anything you think you did wrong in front of me. As long as we both respect our limits, I’ll never judge you.” 

 

And when Andrew started to say something, he didn't let him. “Andrew. Just listen, okay? You pay me for this. I’m not a thing but you can use me to do anything we agree on. And if that means making mistakes, then that’s okay too. Because this,” he motioned between the two of them, “is just between us. It’s our business and I’m the last person you need to feel ashamed in front of.” He could already see that Andrew didn't want to hear any of this. But maybe he needed to, and Neil would give it time to let it actually sink in. Andrew could glare at him all he wanted. He just couldn't stand the man looking like this. Even hate was better than _this_. 

 

“You say you hate me. Admit it, that’s what you are thinking right now.”

 

“There is nothing to admit. I _do_ hate you.” Neil smiled at him and it made Andrew even angrier. 

 

“That’s fine. Hate me all you want. I’ll still do this with you. Just tell me to back off or take a break, tell me to go and sit in the corner or wait in the next room or whatever. Tell me to wait outside for all I care. Just don’t feel like you need to run from me. Okay?”

 

“Are you done now?” He really didn't want to hear this right now. But Neil knew he would think about it.

 

“Yes, I’m done. You can throw me out now.” 

 

“And if I don’t?” he asked after a moment.

 

“I guess, then we’ll have to find out if that thing works and if you are any good at it,” Neil said and nodded at Andrew’s gaming console below the flatscreen. Andrew followed his gaze and took another spoonful of ice cream. He sucked on it before he answered.

 

“Go ahead. I’ll pass. My reflexes are a little …inhibited at the moment.” Neil glared at the box. He usually didn't care what people did to themselves, but Andrew was an athlete he admired and it pissed him off to see him like this. 

 

“You should be careful with those. The long term–“

 

“Geez, thanks _Kevin_. The last thing I ever wanted were two of you,” Andrew sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Shut up, I think I know enough about side effects.” Neil glared at him. “Go ahead,” Andrew said again and made a gesture at the general direction of the console.

 

“We can do something else, if you like. We don’t have to play,” Neil offered. It had just been a suggestion to lighten the mood. Andrew leaned back and put both feet on the table, pressing back against the cushions until he found a comfortable position. 

 

“I thought you came here on your own time.”

 

“I did.” Neil watched him. 

 

“Then, for god’s sake, just do whatever you want,” Andrew sighed. “Don’t look at me for directions.” Neil hummed in response and started the console to have a look at Andrew’s game collection. He had played before but never bought anything himself. After he found something he liked, Neil leaned back and watched the opening video before he let the intro teach him a few skills. Andrew seemed content with just watching for now. It came rather unexpected, when he broke the silence between them suddenly.

 

“Do you really get off on pain?” Neil blinked but didn’t face him. He kept playing, asking himself what had brought this on.

 

“Why do you ask?” 

 

“You don’t seem to have any problem when you are doing it with me.” Andrew licked on his spoon again. Neil raised his eyebrows and smirked a little. 

 

“Yeah, well, that’s because it’s you, Minyard.” Andrew glared at him. 

 

“Gross. So what? You want me in my gear to fulfill your obsessive fantasies?”

 

“Damn, that would be so hot,” Neil joked. Andrew looked unimpressed. “I’m kidding,” the dark haired man chuckled. “Can I see your racquet though? The US court gets theirs custom made, right? That must be awesome!” 

 

“Is that all?” Andrew asked in a bored tone.

 

They fell silent again, as Neil got swamped with zombies during a boss fight. His character nearly died. 

 

“Zombie guard to your right,” Andrew told him. 

 

“Got him,” Neil whooped. “Is what all,” he asked then. 

 

“Is that all it takes to make you happy?” Neil thought about it.

 

“Isn’t that enough?”

 

“How would I know?” Andrew finished his ice cream. 

 

Neil’s voice was lower when he asked, “Is it true? They say your apathy is part of a mental disorder.”

 

“They say,” Andrew repeated. He eyed Neil’s untouched pint on the table. “Are you going to eat that? It’s melting.” Neil shook his head.

 

“Go ahead,” he offered. “–You never smile, you never laugh…” Neil felt a little uneasy talking about this. Of course he wanted to know but it seemed awfully private and was probably nothing Andrew wanted to share. 

 

“Maybe you are not funny.”

 

“Maybe,” Neil agreed. He watched Andrew from the corners of his eyes as he opened the second pint of ice cream, and wondered how someone could eat so much sugar at once. “You…” He fended off another wave of zombies, distracted for a second. “…were different when you played for the Foxes. Because of your meds?”

 

“Different,” Andrew echoed again and a shadow crossed his face. 

 

“Like… ‘fake’. –Sorry, that was… uhm. No, sorry, that was out of line,” Neil winced, his thumb rapidly hitting the buttons. 

 

“That’s something coming from a liar,” Andrew said unfazed. 

 

“–I guess,” Neil admitted. He finished the level and turned the game off. Turning sideways on the sofa, he faced Andrew and watched him eat. “Hey. About tonight? It wasn’t all bad, was it?” ‘ _This whole thing is disgusting…’_ Andrew didn’t say anything, didn’t look at him. “That couldn’t have been your first blowjob. You’re too good at it,” he pressed on, trying to remind Andrew of the good parts. 

 

“Never said it was,” Andrew answered emotionlessly. His mind clearly was on what had followed afterwards. Neil sighed. He still felt like he would lose Andrew here. 

 

“Geez, Andrew. Do you think I never have trouble getting it up? And it’s my job.” 

 

Andrew looked pained when he turned to Neil and asked, “Did you just compare doing this with me to getting beaten up? I feel so much better now.” Neil blinked. 

 

“No,” he replied horrified. “That’s not what I meant. - Jesus, Andrew, and seriously, would you just stop thinking that all my clients beat me? In fact, none of them do. You miss the point in all of this.” 

 

“And that is?” 

 

“It’s about control. Some people like the feeling of being in control of the situation; others want to be rid of it. Some say it’s about trust, but you can’t force that. If you could, I wouldn't be there, willing to take the risk. It’s my job to pretend to trust them in that situation. –Truth be told, I don’t. I trust none of them. We hide behind rules and agreements and the risk is still there and they pay me for it. The fact that you think that I get paid to get beaten is seriously insulting.”

 

“You are still saying I’m one of them.” 

 

“Aren’t you?”

 

“Because I hit you–“

 

“No! Because you pay me Andrew,” Neil said and waited for Andrew to look at him. The goalkeeper was stubbornly eating his ice cream. Because touching Andrew was not an option right now, Neil reached over and took his spoon away. The Exy player shot him an annoyed look. 

 

“It was my fault, okay?”

 

“I told you, it was not,” Andrew growled. 

 

“Yes, it was. I could repeat it right now and it would still be my fault. I triggered you–“

 

“ _Don’t_ call it that,” Andrew interjected, disgusted. “We are not playing your games here. This is not a scene, we don’t have safe words,” he hissed. 

 

“Yes, we do. ‘ _No’, ‘Stop’, ‘Don’t’_ –all of these are your safe words. You don’t have to spell it out for me. You told me in the beginning that I would need your consent every single step of the way.”

 

“ _This_ ,” Andrew pointed between the two of them, “is just plain sex, understand? You are my hooker and I pay you for this. You said I shouldn't twist this, but it’s you who turns it into something else,” Andrew accused him angrily. Neil looked at him and said nothing. He couldn’t say anything because he had come here tonight as something Andrew didn't want him to be. It was a dead end. It felt like a slap in the face, because he had made the mistake of trying to turn this into something else tonight, something _more_. He had been wrong and he should have – had – known better. 

 

He lowered his gaze and handed the spoon back to Andrew. “Sorry.” He felt ashamed all of the sudden. He knew it would turn into anger soon enough. Neil got up. “You are right. I made a mistake.” Andrew just looked at him. 

 

 

This had taken a wrong turn somewhere. Andrew looked up at the man in front of him, who had suddenly lost all of his confidence. His drugged brain told him that Neil was ashamed and he couldn't figure out _why_ in time. Damn, he was out of it. There was a reason he only did this when he was alone. One thing was certain though; Neil was going to run. Fight was no longer an option, and everything about the guy screamed flight right now. Why? He blinked. 

 

“Sorry,” Neil said once more, then turned and left. Andrew stared after him, trying to figure it out. The spoon lay forgotten in his hand. He was still angry, but that couldn't have been it. Neil was pretty used to his moods by now. It was quite impressive actually. The guy just didn't get intimidated. Then what? His usually perfect memory wouldn't let him replay the scene in detail like he wanted. The drugs made everything foggy. 

 

Andrew felt something snap in him and flung the spoon across the room. It clattered against the wall next to the door and then fell to the floor. 

 

“Fuck,” he said. Andrew stood up and went to the window. He looked down, and as usual, the height as he looked straight down at the street below gave him that stomach-twisting feeling. He ignored it and kept looking. A moment later, Neil crossed the street, head lowered, hands in his pockets, feet speeding up to a jog –running away. From him, Andrew realized. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **translation notes:**  
>  *’See you tomorrow night?’  ‘Can’t make it tomorrow. Sorry.’
> 
> thanks for reading!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blackmail or bribery ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so happy you guys enjoyed the last chapter so much. Thank you for all the comments. It makes me happy to read them, knowing that you are still thinking about this after you've read it, instead of just jumping to the next story. ♥︎

“Alright, wrap it up! That’s it for today!” Their coach was clapping his hands as he entered through the plexiglass door, ending their training. Kevin stood behind him, taking on the role of an assistant coach once more for the duration of his recovery. “Hit the showers and get out of here! –Minyard!” Andrew made his way over from the goal unhurriedly. “A word.” Hazel eyes looked between his coach and Kevin, settling on the team’s captain, until Kevin got the hint and left. 

 

“Coach?” Andrew leaned against the wall next to the door, racquet in hand. 

 

“How is that investigation coming along? Any news?” The whole team was worried about losing their best goalkeeper. Coach Mathews was the first besides Kevin to ask. 

 

“You know as much as I do, Coach.”

 

“At least try to lie convincingly, Minyard. Show a little respect once in a while.” Maybe he should. Maybe he should step up his game and learn from a particular young man he was seeing lately. 

 

“Yes, Coach.” 

 

Mathews sighed and waved him off. “Get out of here.” Andrew made it past the door before he added, “We lost this season, but that doesn’t mean I will tolerate players with a drug problem. Are we clear?” 

 

“Crystal,” Andrew said monotonously. His coach was not an idiot. They had some kind of arrangement. Andrew would stay mostly sober during the season and always play sober, even during practice, in exchange for Mathews turning a blind eye to his drug use when he was off the court. Lately, Andrew had been using more often. His coach thought that was one of the reasons why Andrew refused to play nice with the press or show up for the team’s promotions. In truth, Andrew had always been that way, but he cared even less about those things lately. It seemed more and more unimportant to him with the possibility of Kevin losing his career due to his injury. If Kevin had to quit, Andrew wouldn’t stay. 

 

Andrew hit the showers and got changed. Kevin was waiting for him outside, sitting on a bench next to the parking lot, where the black Maserati gleamed in the sunlight. Andrew lit a cigarette as soon as he stepped outside. He looked at the sky, inhaled deeply, and furrowed his brows. Slowly, he made his way over to Kevin. The striker looked up at him, and Andrew could already tell that his mind was set on having another of their talks. He didn’t need that right now. All he wanted was to drop Kevin off with Thea and be done with everything for today. Kevin had known him long enough to understand from just watching him that Andrew wouldn’t want to share any information today either. He sighed and let his eyes wander up the stadium, shining in the evening sun, flags fluttering on top in the wind. 

 

“I wish you would talk to me.” Andrew said nothing. He put one foot onto the bench beside Kevin. “Did you meet your lawyer today?” 

 

“I did.” It had been an early appointment. His lawyer was a snake of a man, cold-blooded and not easily intimidated. They got along. They didn’t like each other, but that was fine. 

 

“How did it go?” Andrew just shrugged. “You wanna come over tonight,” Kevin asked carefully. Andrew hated him for offering. This was not how their deal worked. If he didn’t ask Kevin was supposed to ignore it, was supposed to trust Andrew in handling his own business. 

 

“No.” The goalkeeper crushed his cigarette under his foot and unlocked the car. 

 

“You know…” 

 

“Kevin, get in and shut up.” Andrew waited for his team captain to stand up, before they made their way over to the car. As soon as the Maserati came to life around them, Andrew turned up the volume of the stereo and didn’t turn it down again until he left Kevin in front of Thea’s house. 

 

At home, Andrew made himself something to eat and ignored the team’s group chat popping up on his phone. They would meet at a bar tonight; he would not join them. He had other things on his mind, one being a certain black-haired guy who called himself Neil. _‘You can call me Neil…’_ He wondered what the man’s name really was. 

 

Thinking back on their last encounter, Andrew was sure Neil had chosen to misunderstand his meaning when he had told the man that he didn’t want him to turn their business arrangement into something else. He had wanted to make clear that he was not interested in the whole BDSM scene and did not want to be a part of it. Neil had chosen to take it as a rebuke for showing up uninvited. What a fool. If that had been the case, Andrew wouldn’t have let him in in the first place. In fact, it had surprised him to see Neil a second time that night. He had liked it, he admitted to himself. That had been unexpected too. Normally, he would not have wanted company on a night like that. Not while Drake had been fresh on his mind. It had been different with Neil and that was as surprising as it was interesting. 

 

Andrew enjoyed the company of the man, simple as that. He wanted to see who Neil really was behind his acting. He wanted to know how much of him was real. Problem was, he might have to cancel their meetings for a while. At least the next one. It was not uncommon for him to lose his sex drive after what he called ‘a drug-induced encounter with Drake’. This could last for a while, and he had no way of knowing for how long. Even touching himself had felt off this morning when he had reached down experimentally. His mind just wasn’t up for it right now. That would change again. He wasn’t worried. It wasn’t a new thing. 

 

 

 

  


_‘Hey’_ Neil sighed and tapped the phone against his thigh. Three letters, one simple word, and it had taken him twenty minutes to work up the nerve to text Andrew this time. It wasn’t just the way they had ended their last meeting –him running away– it was the way their relationship had evolved in his mind that made him feel uneasy about the whole situation. He had gone too far. 

 

He could see the three dots almost immediately. Andrew was still awake. He didn't respond though. Neil sighed again and let the phone fall from his hand. He rubbed a hand over his face. Although it was already late, it was Saturday night and people were still up and about. Somewhere down the street, a bottle crashed against a wall, and Neil heard someone laughing and someone else screaming. His neighborhood was pretty shitty, but even shitty was still expensive and he couldn't afford to waste money. More screams. Someone would call the cops soon. Not him. He avoided them whenever possible. He would never rely on them. Neil stared at his dark ceiling, listened to the city outside his window. Someone was getting beaten up. The sound was familiar. He could make out at least three people without looking. _Maybe four_ , he thought. His phone buzzed. 

 

_‘what’_ Nearly ten minutes had passed. Neil had so many questions. ‘Are you alright’ was the loudest of them all but he couldn't ask. It was not his place.

 

_‘Still Tuesday?’_ He needed to know. Again Andrew wrote something he didn't send. The three dots disappeared again. 

 

_‘I’ll let you know’_ three minutes later. A fucking maybe. This was worse than a no. Had he fucked up so badly? Was Andrew still angry with him? This felt so wrong. 

 

“You are killing me,” he said out loud. He typed ‘alright’ but erased it. Maybe Andrew had seen it because he wrote something else. 

 

_‘go to sleep.’_ Meaning he shouldn't wait for a reply tonight. _Yeah, got that message already. Thanks for spelling it out_. 

 

_‘Can’t. My nose hurts, can’t breathe.’_ It was pure spite. He allowed himself this much because Andrew was fucking with his brain, and he wanted to get back at him somehow. 

 

_‘you have a big mouth. figure it out’_ “Hmpf.” That actually made him smile. He wondered if Andrew had taken something again, imagined him being at home getting high. He turned onto his side, tried once more to calm down enough to fall asleep. Pointless. 

 

‘ _Yours is pretty skilled too._ ’ A drugged Andrew would surely have something to say to that. 

 

_‘is your mind always down in the gutter’_ More and more lately. It was something new Neil had noticed. It was odd and distracting. It wasn’t unheard of, of course. A young man like him should have the desire for sex. Why not? There was nothing wrong with him physically, but the fact that he had suppressed that urge for so long made it seem normal not to think about it. His job made his detachment with the matter even greater. Meeting Andrew had changed that. 

 

_‘Is yours?’_ Did Andrew still look at him and see a prostitute? Only that? Did it matter to him? How easily could he replace him, and would that work vice-versa? No, Neil decided, he couldn’t replace Andrew. It was not like the man had woken his slumbering urges. Neil wouldn’t go out and look for a hook-up. He didn’t want to. 

 

_‘no’_

 

_‘I wouldn’t mind returning the favor.’_ _If you would let me_. Normally he hated this kind of talk. It came with the job but with Andrew he didn't mind. He was actually honest about it. 

 

_‘it’s not a favor, and you left your money’_ There it was again. He had overstepped his boundaries and his client pushed him back. _Get a grip_ , his mind hissed. 

 

_‘You can give it to me on Tuesday.’_ Andrew had nothing to say to that. Neil argued with himself for the longest time before he added: _‘I like the sober you better.’_ His heart rate went up after he sent it. He had to wait a little for his reply. 

 

_‘he’s not here to give a fuck’_ Neil turned the screen off, turned onto his back and put an arm over his eyes. His chest ached.

 

 

 

 

 

Tuesday came and with it came Andrew’s response in the morning. ‘ _not tonight’_ Neil had woken up an hour later. Either Andrew woke up very early this morning, or he hadn’t slept at all. He had sent the message at 5:45am. Neil turned his phone off. He knew he would check it all day otherwise, just in case Andrew had changed his mind. He wouldn’t. And it wouldn’t do to push him. 

 

Neil sat on his windowsill, coffee in hand, and looked down at the empty street. _Is it some kind of praise thing_ , he wondered. _Because I displeased him, I want to make it up to him? It makes me feel like crap. Maybe it’s because I hurt him when I pushed him._ He couldn’t get it out of his head, the picture of Andrew kneeling over him, freezing, choking on that dreadful sound that had come from his mouth… He pushed the memory away. 

 

Once more he asked himself where he was going with this. Why did he allow himself to risk the stability in his life for one man he didn’t even know? Maybe it was because of the life he lived. It wasn’t worth much to him in the first place. It was far from perfect; it was nothing like he had imagined it when he had been younger and full of Exy dreams. But it was still his life, and actually staying in one place felt like the right move for the first time. _You know it won’t last_. 

 

Neil decided it was time to slip into the role of the nameless customer, ordering Roland’s special tonight. It might take his mind off things. 

 

 

 

 

When Andrew opened the door, he already knew who was waiting there for him. Allison was dressed in a tight black dress and black heels that made her even taller and made him look up, just to meet her eyes. She looked like business. It made her smell like contracts and signed lines at the bottom of the page. She looked like a million bucks, and she had the confidence to pull it off. He wasn’t into women, but he recognized beauty when he saw it. Allison would make heads turn tonight. 

 

“Coach sent me,” she said in way of greeting. “I’m your date tonight.” 

 

He did not look like he would need a date tonight. He had just finished a workout, was sweating allover, unshaven, and wasn’t even trying to look pleased to see her. 

 

“I’m not going,” he told her. It was a charity event. The whole team was invited, their names adding a youthful attraction to the list of fame and money, luring in more guests to raise money for orphaned children. 

 

“Yes, yes, can we skip this part? You refusing to go and me telling you that you have no choice. And don’t pull the orphan card on me, Minyard. I know you don’t care. But they do. You add authenticity to the whole thing. People love that.” She looked him up and down. “It’s in your contract, Andrew. You know how many events you have to attend each season. You’ve skipped all of them so far.” 

 

His face was a mask that didn’t crack. If she hadn’t known him, she would think he wasn’t listening. But Andrew was always listening. 

 

“What if I promise that we won’t stay long? Work with me, Minyard. Let’s just get this over with. Let’s stay for the champagne and sneak out when the bidding starts.” She knew what he was thinking. _What’s in it for me?_ She had talked to Kevin, and they both agreed that Andrew was getting more and more unstable. Kevin’s injury had dealt him a blow he might not recover from until it was too late. 

 

“Name it,” she told him. His price for tonight’s event. She was here to play both sides. She would make sure Andrew would show up and keep coach Mathews happy, and she would also make sure Andrew would not violate his contract and stay on the team for his own good. He might not care, might not even care years later, but she would take care of him right now. Someone had to. He was doing a piss-poor job of it himself.

 

“You have nothing to offer,” he said. 

 

“Don’t I? There is a file in my office that says I do. You should be more careful who you invite to your bedroom, Andrew. I must say, you got me curious the moment I saw him sitting in your living room. He’s cute.” She smiled like dripping honey, slow and sweet, but her words were acid. 

 

He blinked slowly, like a cat, staring at her. In his mind he imagined grabbing her slender neck, choking her, pushing her backwards until she hit the wall behind her. He imagined the choked noises she’d make, her nails clawing at his hand, how they would slip under his sleeves and scratch there, too close to his scars. He’d grab her wrists then…

 

“Blackmail?” He feigned boredom. It was convincing, was part of his character. She couldn’t know that a simple prostitute had gotten under his skin. 

 

“No,” she answered, laughing a little. “I’m not a masochist, silly. Do you think I’m stupid? Come on. I’m _bribing_ you. Make it worth your while. You _really_ want to know what I’ve found.” Her smile got wider, more cheerful. He said nothing for a few heartbeats. “You think I’m lying?” she asked then. 

 

“No,” he replied and stepped aside to let her in. 

 

“So, tonight… Get cleaned up, will you? I know you’re gay, but I can see every muscle underneath that sweat-dripping shirt and I’m hopelessly underfucked. It’s not fair.”

 

“TMI,” he mumbled and closed the door behind her. 

 

 

 

Andrew Minyard and Allison Reynolds stepped into the room, causing heads to turn their way. They were both dressed all in black, the only contrast being their two different shades of blond hair and pale skin. He looked even smaller than usual at her side, but her slenderness and his powerful frame kept it from looking comical. 

 

She noticed his displeasure from the sudden overwhelming attention and said in a low voice, “You _do_ clean up nicely.”

 

“That dress will solve your lack of eager potential husbands,” he answered flatly. 

 

“Was that a compliment? I couldn’t tell.”

 

“Neither could I.” They mingled with the crowd and spotted Kevin and Thea almost immediately. The tall striker was hard to miss. Kevin looked relieved to see Andrew, causing the goalkeeper to shoot him an annoyed glare. Things had been so much easier when Kevin had been too scared for his own life to worry about him. “I’m out of here in thirty minutes,” he told her.

 

“Make it forty five and we have a deal.” 

 

He gave her a mock-salute, grabbed one of the champagne glasses from one of the waiters and withdrew to the wall in the back of the room, next to a window. Showing up here was part of the deal, making conversation wasn’t. He could see that Kevin wanted to follow him by the way the striker turned his head to keep an eye on him, but Kevin was always the center of attention and Andrew would be seriously annoyed if he would drag him into it. No one wanted to witness that. He would slip outside when the attention gathered on the stage in front of the room and the charity auction began. He couldn’t wait. 

 

 

In the end it took almost an hour for the party to proceed to the main event that evening. Andrewlocked eyes with Allison one finale time, taking her approving smile as dismissal –not caring if it wasn’t –and left without another word. He thought about going home but that seemed like a waste now that he was already dressed up and outside. A short trip to Eden’s sounded like the better idea. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> damn, 3k views... thank you guys so much. –Now, don't rain on my parade, I know there are those awesome stories out there that made it over a 100k but I'm more than happy with this being my first AFTG fic. Thank you everyone who has been reading this story and, hopefully, will stick around to the end. 
> 
>  
> 
> ♞♠︎ since the next chapter is already done and reviewed... teaser time: ♠︎♞
> 
> “You aren’t following me again, are you?” [...] “We need to talk.”[...] “I said, let go of me!” [...] “What are you doing,” Andrew asked. “What am _I_ doing?” Neil chuckled. “What you wanted me to, asshole.”
> 
> ...I misplaced the rose-colored glasses again.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> not what I said

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, here is the next chapter. It's a bit longer than usual... in fact, this one and ch ten had been one chapter in the beginning. sixteen pages seemed like overkill in comparison to my usual word count (not that you would have minded, I guess xD) . anywayyyy... I bumped up the rating just to be sure. it's nothing spicy, don't worry

Andrew was greeted at the door of Eden’s Twilight as usual; crowds parting to let him through, a few less attentive souls pushed out of the way by the staff. The heavy bass vibrated in his chest like a second heartbeat, easing his mind. He spotted Roland behind the bar and made his way over. 

 

“Long time no see,” the man grinned and they clasped hands. Roland was obviously pleased to see him and even Andrew managed a grin. “Your friend showed up an hour ago.” He blinked. Roland noticed. “Oh, coincidence then. Nevermind. The usual?” 

 

“Yes.” He leaned against the bar and let his gaze scan the crowd. He couldn’t find Neil, wasn’t even sure if he wanted to meet the guy tonight. Roland returned with his drink, accepted the generous tip, and nodded at the wall behind the dance floor. Neil was sitting on a couch, looking somehow withdrawn and deep in thought amidst the dancing crowd and chatting groups. Roland’s fingers drummed an off-rhythm beat next to Andrew’s glass, indicating that Neil had ordered one of his specials too. Andrew raised a pale eyebrow at the bartender. He smirked a little and took his drink, taking a sip and returning his gaze to the young man. 

 

Someone had noticed Neil and came to stand beside him to talk. Neil frowned up at him, unable to understand anything with the speakers close by. The guy leaned in close to try again. Andrew noticed a pang of possessiveness and displeasure watching this. The hand on Neil’s shoulder, the lips almost brushing his ear, the twisting grin on the man’s face while talking to Neil… He didn’t like any of it. Neil shrugged in response and gave a weak, distant-looking smile. The hand on his shoulder moved behind his neck and a thumb was brushing along his jaw. 

 

“Did it work out between the two of you?” Roland asked from behind him.

 

“Define ‘work out’,” Andrew replied. Then he shrugged. “I guess.” 

 

“Good to hear. He’s a nice kid.” Andrew turned then. 

 

“How’d you know?” He half-emptied his glass. Roland smiled knowingly and looked over at Neil. 

 

“I’m a bartender. I’m a good judge of character.” 

 

“Then what am I,” Andrew scoffed. ‘Nice kid’  wouldn’t cross anyone’s  mind thinking of him. 

 

“Worth the trouble,” Roland said without missing a beat, provoking a short but honestly amused laugh from the goalkeeper. 

 

“Give me another and one for you,” he said, putting cash onto the bar and emptying his glass. 

 

“Coming right up.” Roland was good at slipping drugs into drinks without unwanted eyes noticing, but Andrew knew what to look for. Both drinks were spiked when Roland returned. Andrew wouldn’t have trusted someone who would refuse to take the stuff they sold. 

 

“Cheers.” They clinked glasses. When Andrew turned around again, Neil was gone. _Found someone else for tonight_ , he thought and didn’t allow himself to indulge in the rising anger. He had cancelled tonight’s appointment. He swallowed another mouthful, waiting for the drugs to kick in. The alcohol would take the edge off first, and he longed for it. His own mind was a disquieting place in general, but even more so lately. The dancing crowd moved to the beat and he kept his eyes on them, not looking at someone in particular, just taking in those individual bodies, which managed to move separately but still added up to one moving mass following the music. Crowds and their dynamics were fascinating. Stupidity and intelligence at the same time, weakness and strength… The alcohol was kicking in, he noticed and he did nothing to stop his wandering thoughts. 

 

“You aren’t following me again, are you?” He froze. Just like that, his muscles locked up for a split-second and his mind came to a halt. Next to him stood one black-haired young man, close enough to touch him, and he hadn’t even noticed him approaching. Just another body moving next to him to order something at the bar –yeah, right. 

 

 

Andrew didn’t notice him standing next to him. The man looked like a walking advertisement. Black suit, black dress shirt, open collar, no tie, polished shoes, hair combed back. _Overdressed_ , he thought. Andrew definitely had been on some kind of event before he came here. Neil leaned next to him against the bar, gesturing to Roland for another drink before he spoke to the goalkeeper without facing him. 

 

“You aren’t following me again, are you?” He had seen Andrew entering the room, had noticed the attention shifting in his direction, had watched him ordering drinks and finding him in the crowd across the room. He hadn’t locked eyes with him. Neil had been careful not to be caught watching the Exy star. 

 

Andrew glanced sideways at him. “No.” Neil nodded. He reached into his pocket for some cash, when Andrew’s hand stopped his and the goalkeeper nodded at the bartender in order to pay for the drink instead. Neil shot him an angry look and freed his hand, pushing the money across the bar. 

 

“Keep the change,” he told Roland and took his glass. 

 

“Someone is pissed,” Andrew muttered, eyes returning to the dance floor.

 

“I’m not. Don’t buy me stuff.”

 

“Technically, I still owe you for last time. –Ah, that’s right. You prefer cash.” He grinned and put his own glass back onto the bar before reaching for his wallet. Neil’s eyes flashed with anger. 

 

“Fuck you,” he hissed, low enough that only Andrew would hear it and left. Andrew just grinned. _Stupid bastard_ , Neil thought. He thought he might have gotten through to Andrew by now, but obviously that wasn’t the case. The man still wanted him to break the rules, still treated him –publicly –like a whore. _Just as well_ , Neil thought. He had all evening been wrapping his mind around being just that in Andrew’s case –his prostitute. If that was what the man wanted, that was what he would get. That meant establishing the rules again and following them this time for his own sake. 

 

He crossed the room and moved into the crowd after emptying his glass in one go and disposing of it. He let the beat dictate his movements and tuned out everything else. People turned towards him when he danced. His body was a lithe thing, on and off the court, and he couldn’t hide it. The fact that he had put the effort in to learn a few moves that would come in handy with his clients only added to that. He didn’t do it on purpose, his body just started moving, encouraged by alcohol and drugs in his system. Some people got overly cheerful and clingy; he turned more into his other self. Nathaniel was rearing his ugly head, knife-edged grin on his lips, mind as dangerous as the man’s he was named after. It made him feel powerful right now; it would make him feel utterly disgusted in the morning. He hated it, but sometimes he needed the reminder. Nathaniel wasn’t scared. Nathaniel could deal with the threats lurking in the shadows. Nathaniel didn’t need anyone’s help. He could do what he wanted. 

 

People moved in closer around him but he brushed them off. He liked the attention but he didn’t want to give any in return. _This is not what you want_ , his mind kept whispering somewhere behind the music and he told it to shut up. Songs blurred into one single endless beat, rivaled by his rapid heartbeat. His skin was hot and sweaty, his hair stuck to his neck and forehead, his shirt fit him like a second skin. It felt good. He lost track of time but it didn’t matter. Hands touched him from time to time, trying to convince him to turn around and move closer. He ignored them and they vanished again. Someone wouldn’t give up so easily though. There was a hand on his shoulder, thumb running up his neck, a grip like a vice. 

 

“We need to talk.” Andrew Minyard. Neil shivered a little when he heard those words coming from close behind him. He turned then, eyes locking with Andrew’s. The man looked angry. _Why can’t you smile for a change_ , he thought and grinned. Before he could answer anything, Andrew’s hand slid down his arm and grabbed his biceps, pulling him along. 

 

“Hey!” Neil protested. He was ignored and followed Andrew, not quite sure where they were going. Sober, he would have figured it out immediately; now the only thing he saw were people dodging them, looking at them. “Let go! Where the fuck…” He stumbled up the stairs behind the goalkeeper, who held him by the wrist now, like a misbehaving child. When they got outside and the cool night air hit them, Neil took in deep breaths, his body realizing what he had been missing. Andrew still wouldn’t stop. 

 

“I said, let go of me,” Neil snarled, only to be ignored. 

 

They finally stopped two blocks down, Andrew turning around and facing him again. 

 

“You,” he said, making it sound like an accusation. Neil frowned at him, not following. Andrew looked around, making sure no one was watching them. When he spotted a group of people coming their way, he pulled Neil across the street and into a parking lot. 

 

“What’s your problem,” Neil wanted to know, annoyed. 

 

“What are you doing,” Andrew asked in return. 

 

“What am _I_ doing?” Neil chuckled. “What you wanted me to, asshole.” He raised his chin defiantly. 

 

“You are an idiot,” the goalkeeper said matter-of-factly. Neil responded with a disbelieving laugh. “Why did you run last time?” The taller man looked puzzled for a moment. 

 

“‘Cause you told me to.” He blinked, trying to make sense of the situation. 

 

“That’s not what I said. You want this to be complicated, don’t you?” Andrew asked. Neil balled his hands into fists at that. 

 

“I get it, okay? You pay me, I do what you say. No personal shit, no feelings, no strings attached.” It made him angry that he had to say it out loud. 

 

“Spoken like a true hooker,” Andrew mocked. “Not what I said,” he repeated and emphasized every word as if he was speaking to a dimwitted fool. 

 

“Then what?” Neil raged at him. He was so tired of this. In response, Andrew’s lips crushed against his, their teeth colliding painfully when Neil was too slow to react in time. Andrew rolled his eyes and grabbed him by the back of his neck, keeping him in place, leaning his own head sideways, dominating the kiss. Neil clenched his fists, struggling not to hold onto the man in front of him. His left hand was still captured by Andrew’s grip, but it took some serious effort to keep his right at his side. 

 

Andrew deepened the kiss, licked into his mouth, bit him, first his lips, then down his neck, before his hissed, “Idiot,” into Neil’s ear. “I told you I hate sharing. You just had to let them touch you in front of me, huh?” His hand tightened on Neil’s neck. 

 

“Fuck you,” Neil hissed but did nothing to free himself. 

 

“No,” Andrew growled and kissed him again. Neil was panting when their lips parted again. He lowered his head a little, forehead almost touching Andrew’s. His lips tingled. They should hurt judging by how hard Andrew had bitten him but they didn’t. He should be shivering from the cold but he felt too hot all over. “I’m going to take you home,” Andrew said in a low voice. 

 

“No,” Neil managed. 

 

“Geez, look at you. How much did you take?” The goalkeeper grabbed him by the chin and Neil jerked his head back violently. 

 

“You can’t tell me what to do tonight.” 

 

“Because I didn’t want to see you? I’m here now.” Neil glared at him, took a step back but Andrew followed. 

 

“You can’t have it both ways. Either you want to see me and pay me, or you stay away from me,” he said, stating the rules again. 

 

“Pay you for what?” Andrew shot back, sudden anger flaring up again. He moved in closer, one foot stepping between Neil’s legs, thigh pushing upward. Neil was half-erect already. He wanted to blame the drugs, but it was the man in front of him who was to blame. 

 

“Yeah,” Andrew said knowingly, pressing against his crotch. “But in case you have forgotten…” Now he moved against Neil’s thigh. The dark-haired man blinked at him, dumfounded. “But thanks for the show,” Andrew hissed and withdrew, letting go of him. Even through the drug-haze it stung. _Fuck_. 

 

“Andrew…” What should he say? The goalkeeper glared at him, daring him to say the wrong thing. Neil sighed, rubbed a hand over his face. His mouth opened again before he noticed, words spilling from his lips. “I never get it right with you.” 

 

“You don’t have to,” Andrew replied coldly. 

 

Neil ran his fingers through his sweaty hair absentmindedly. “I think I do. I want to.” Andrew pointed a finger at him. “Hate you,” Neil said in his stead, automatically and Andrew nodded. “I know,” Neil sighed, sounding troubled. He wondered how much he would regret of this tomorrow. Probably all of it. “I fucked up,” he admitted. Andrew shrugged. 

 

“Will you let me make it up to you?” Hazel eyes met his questioningly. Andrew didn’t say anything, obviously unsure what Neil was offering. “I might…would you…uhm…” Neil winced. He took a deep breath and just pushed the words out with the exhale. “Would you let me try something? Tonight?” 

 

“Try what?” Andrew asked suspiciously. Neil looked around, not sure if he wanted to explain it right here. His body shivered but it felt like he had no part in it. Still, his mind told him that he was getting cold and that he couldn’t afford to get sick. To his surprise, Andrew shrugged off his jacket and handed it to him. His own was still at the club. 

 

“Thanks,” Neil muttered and put it on. Below the smell of Eden’s lingered a heady mix of Andrew’s aftershave, sweat and body wash. Neil barely kept himself from inhaling that scent greedily. “Well…” He laughed a little nervously. Hadn’t he told Andrew to tell him of the things he wanted without any reservations? That he had heard them all before, that nothing could shock him or make him nervous anymore? That lie was in plain view now, as he couldn’t bring himself to speak the words. “Fuck… okay. You still have that camera?” he blurted out then. Hadn’t taken him long to consider breaking the rules again for this man. All because of a drugged brain and a sudden rush of guilt. 

 

“I have _a_ camera, why?” Andrew crossed his arms in front of his chest. 

 

“Would you lend it to me?” The goalkeeper shrugged, then nodded. “Would you watch me doing stuff… when I’m not around?” he asked hesitantly. Andrew got the whole picture then and frowned. 

 

“You said no videos.” Neil nodded and looked away, letting Andrew add another broken rule to the list. 

 

“You have to promise me to delete the file afterwards,” he said. “Yes or no?” 

 

“Yes,” Andrew agreed. 

 

 

 

They returned to Eden’s and took a cab to Andrew’s apartment. Both of them didn’t speak much and kept their distance from each other. Andrew found his DSLR camera and handed it to Neil. The dark-haired man confessed that he didn’t really know the technical details to his plan and had to explain to Andrew what he needed. They decided to figure it out at Andrew’s place, using the goalkeeper’s laptop to test the setup for the video stream. Neil’s phone wouldn’t give them the needed video quality, and in all honesty, Neil started to doubt that his old laptop would be up for the challenge either, even with the expensive camera at his disposal. He might just have to record everything at home and give the camera back to Andrew afterwards. 

 

“This works. Just do it here,” Andrew told him. 

 

“What do you…” Neil frowned. 

 

“Just use the guest room,” Andrew shrugged, hands in his pockets. 

 

“Oh.” Neil looked down the hall. He had never seen the rest of Andrew’s place. “Yeah, I mean…” He didn’t mind. The whole point was for them to be in separate rooms. If Andrew was okay with him being in the same apartment, he didn’t mind trying it that way. They set up the equipment and Neil sat down on the bed, his phone in hand, talking to Andrew two rooms down the hall. 

 

“Can you see me?” 

 

“Works fine.” They had muted the mic on the camera, so Neil could put Andrew on speaker phone to be able to talk to him. 

 

“Alright.” He placed the phone on the bed but out of the way. Imagining Andrew watching him from his bedroom, Neil kneeled on the bed and started to take his clothes off. He did it slowly and deliberately, putting on a show for the goalkeeper. He listened for Andrew’s instructions but the Exy player remained silent on his end. There was just the slight rustling of clothes, the faint metallic sound of a belt buckle, that let Neil know Andrew was undressing too. 

 

He settled down naked onto the bed. His nerves were calm now. He had done this many times. Not in front of a camera, but being watched by many different eyes. Neil leaned back, made himself comfortable.

 

“Don’t look at me,” Andrew hissed through the phone.

 

“I’m not,” Neil justified himself, a little disbelieving, breathless laugh in his voice, because he wasn’t. He wasn't even near Andrew. The damned camera was just right in front of him. He made an effort and turned his head to the side. “Andrew.” 

 

“What?” Andrew sounded tense. 

 

“Want to blindfold me?” He ran a hand down his upper body, making sure to arch his back and spread his legs. 

 

“Not today.” _Not today, huh? Meaning you’d like to try that sometime_. 

 

“‘Kay.” He didn't touch his cock yet. “Listen, you want to let me lead for a little tonight,” he asked carefully. “You can tell me to do something any time you want but for now, just do what I do.” He listened closely for Andrews reply. Dammit, he should have gotten him a headset or something. His phone’s mic would have to do for now, even if they were on speaker. “Yes or no, Andrew?” He took notice of the pause that followed. He wasn't even sure Andrew was up to anything tonight but he just couldn't stand Andrew being like this, making him angry like this. 

 

“Yes.” He could barely hear him. 

 

“Okay.” Neil made sure not to look directly at the camera, but a little above it, and smiled. He touched himself now, just lightly, the back of his fingers running over his half erect cock. He imagined Andrew doing the same, asked himself if the goalkeeper had been able to calm down enough to enjoy this. If this went wrong, they were done. He would never be able to convince Andrew to try anything with him again. He was sure of that.

 

He reached up again and licked his palm before he finally closed his hand around his erection. His other hand ran up the inside of his thigh, starting at his knee, all the way up, fingertips running over his abs, dipping into his navel and circling his left nipple until it got hard. His right hand had started to stroke himself in slow, lazy movements. He thought about Andrew, leaned back a little more, resting his upper body on top of the cushion propped up against the wooden headboard and looked with half-lidded eyes up at the ceiling. Was Andrew touching himself in his bedroom? What was he thinking? Neil wished the man could just stop thinking for a while and let someone else take over for him. He couldn't hear a sound from the speakers. 

 

“You know…” His right thumb made slow circles around the head of his cock, followed by a few slow but firm strokes up and down his shaft from his hand. “I wish I knew your body as well as mine.” He kept his voice soft. “I wish I knew what you feel when you do this.” He teased his nipple with his left hand, rolling it between thumb and index finger. He brought his fingers up to his lips and licked them, teasingly biting down on them. He took his time, not rushing anything, not knowing how much time Andrew needed. 

 

His hips moved slowly, pushing into his hand. He was fully erect now. Just thinking about Andrew doing this two rooms down the hall made him hard. He had to be careful not to finish too soon. He breathed loud enough for the microphone to pick up, as his wet fingers teased his other nipple. Those were a safe bet. He had never met a guy who didn't enjoy a little nipple play. 

 

“Mmh…” His grip got a little firmer as he stroked himself. He remembered Andrew’s hand on him, remembered how he had done it. Neil adjusted his legs a little, dug his heels into the mattress to move his hips a bit easier. His left hand slid down, rubbed his flat belly beneath his navel, down, ghosting over his balls, then grabbing his muscular inner thigh hard. He sucked a hissing breath through his teeth, more for Andrew’s benefit. When Neil was alone, doing this by himself, he barely made a sound. But now he wished he could hear Andrew, could hear his breath, his moans, his voice… He wondered if the man had muted his mic. 

 

“I wish you’d let me do this sometime right in front of you,” he said, voice breathy and eyes unfocused. “I could…” he slowed his strokes to a halt and rubbed his thumb over the leaking slit. “Fuck, I could look at you, watching me…” He hissed, massaged his balls lightly. “And you would tell me not to.” He laughed a little. And there it was, the slightest hitch of breath coming from the speakers right next to him. It sent a jolt of arousal down his spine and he shuddered. _There you are_ …

 

“Fuck, Andrew…” He tilted his head back, ran his hand up all the way over his upper body, over his scars, up his throat, fingertips touching his lips and down again. “Mmh…” He spread his thighs wide and ran his fingertips over his perineum, back and forth, pressing down. 

 

 

 

This was so different. Andrew bit down on his lower lip as he copied Neil, watched him touching himself. He wished he could touch him like that. He wished he could run his lips and tongue over that lithe body and taste his skin. He wanted to kiss his open mouth and hear those sounds right in front of him and not through those speakers. At least his cock agreed with him again. Watching Neil like this had woken his arousal within minutes.

 

Neil’s hand sped up, wrist twisting at the end of each stroke. He felt so hot; he didn't want to stop. 

 

“Are you close?” Neil kept stroking, his grip firm. Andrew couldn't take his eyes off him. 

 

“You talk to much,” Andrew hissed. He didn't mean it, he could have listened to this guy like this for hours. 

 

“I have to. I can’t see you and you won’t let me hear you.” 

 

“What are you thinking about?” He didn't say my turn but it was implied. He remembered their conversation and Neil’s refusal to tell him what his fantasies were about while he touched himself.

 

“You,” Neil said in a breathy voice. His face was a mask of pleasure, lips twitching, revealing his teeth, brows furrowed. Oh, he was good at this, knew all the right faces to make, all the right things to say, sounds to make. Andrew would have enjoyed it even more, if he could ignore the fact that Neil was acting for him. He could see that Neil was getting close now. 

 

“It’s my turn.” He said it now. “What are you really thinking about?” Neil did look at him then, straight into the camera, somewhat angry for a second but it was too late for him now. 

 

“You,” he gritted out and looked right at him. Neil gasped as he came but didn't look away. The goalkeeper couldn’t take his eyes off him. _Well, fuck_ , was all Andrew could think for a second. And then he tensed up, face contorting into a mask that could have been pain but was just the sudden release of his mounting pleasure, taking him by surprise and full force. He gasped and cursed, his muscles contracting, his toes curling as he came all over his upper body. 

 

He shuddered and took a few harsh breaths before he remembered that Neil could hear him.Andrew looked at the screen. Neil was still there, looking at the ceiling, one arm draped over his stomach, listening. They stayed like that for a few minutes, until Neil sat up and wiped his sticky hand on his thigh, not using the sheets, like Andrew had. He got up to shut the camera off. 

 

“Wait.” Andrew felt a sudden unease. He didn't want to face Neil right now, but he didn't want him to leave either. Neil waited. What the hell did he want, Andrew asked himself. It was already three in the morning. “Stay.” 

 

“Okay.” Neil didn't move.

 

“Tonight, I mean. Stay.” He wasn't sure about this. 

 

“Andrew…,” Neil began to say. 

 

“Just –whatever, I’ll pay you, so stay. You can lock the door.” Neil looked at the bedroom door and saw the key. He thought about it. 

 

“Yeah, okay,” he said slowly. 

 

“Bathroom, the door next to yours on the right.” He watched Neil leaving the room and heard the door to the guest bathroom opening and closing again through his own closed bedroom door. Andrew got up and used his own bathroom. When he came back, Neil had just gotten into his underwear again. “Leave the camera on.” Neil sighed. This was against the rules, Andrew remembered. “You can turn the lights off.” 

 

“Then what’s the point? You won’t be able to see anything.” Yeah, well, he just wanted to. Maybe he would wake up in the morning and catch Neil, still asleep.

 

“Yes or no?” 

 

“Fine,” Neil sighed and moved out of the picture to shut the lights off. All that was left was the soft glow of the phone on the bed, displaying the ongoing connection between them. Andrew could hear Neil climbing into bed, saw him picking up the phone. “You want me to stay on the phone too? My battery won't last.” 

 

“No.” He wasn't that much of a creep. Besides, he wouldn't be able to sleep if he kept listening to every sound Neil made. It would be hard enough as things were without that. 

 

“I’m hanging up now. Good night, Andrew.” 

 

“Night.” 

 

 

Andrew had not seen Neil waking up this morning. He spent the next few hours unable to sleep in his bed, staring at the black screen. When the sun had finally come up, he hadn't been able to catch more than a glimpse of Neil’s dark hair; the rest of him hidden by the covers. Another hour of watching but not seeing anything later, Andrew had finally drifted off into a light sleep. 

 

A sound from the living room woke him up again, not even three hours later. Neil was already awake, the camera shut down. 

 

Andrew got dressed in faded jeans and a long-sleeve shirt and left his bedroom. He found Neil standing in the middle of the room, fully dressed, with one of his goalkeeper racquets in hand. He must have been snooping around a little, Andrew realized. He kept those in his apartment gym. –It was really just one of the rooms he had no other use for, equipped with the essentials; weights, pull up bar on his power rack, a bench and a skipping rope. 

 

_Fanboy mode again_ , Andrew thought. Neil looked guiltily back at him. 

 

“Sorry. I just–“

 

“Thought you’d put it back before I woke up and get away with sniffing around,” Andrew guessed and Neil winced. “Whatever.” He didn't care. Who was he to judge? He had followed this guy home like a stalker. 

 

“I thought you are a backliner.”

 

“I am. –I mean… I play pretty much whatever is needed. Goalie is the only position I’ve never tried.”

 

“Uh huh.” Andrew crossed his arms in front of his chest, not really interested at the moment. 

 

“Sorry,” Neil said again and moved to put the racquet back where he had found it. 

 

“Geez, forget it. Just leave it there,” Andrew said and waved a hand in the general direction of the living room, while he went over to make some coffee. Neil hadn't gotten any yet. As if Andrew would have given a shit about the guy making breakfast after he had told him to stay the night. “Coffee,” he asked, noticing his rising temper. _Rough night_ , he reminded himself. 

 

“Uhm, okay.” Neil came closer, the racquet gone and leaned against the bar. 

 

“And something to eat?” The overpriced machine did its work and produced the first dose of much-needed caffeine infused beverage. 

 

“No, thanks. I need to go soon.” Was that the not eating with clients shit again? Or was it something else? Had Neil been waiting for him to wake up? For what? Talking about last night? Well, tough luck, wasn't going to happen anytime soon. Or was it something else… Andrew turned around and handed Neil his coffee. “Thanks.” 

 

“Hm,” Andrew replied and took a sip of his own coffee. Neil looked ill at ease. “Early client,” Andrew guessed, voice none too kindly. Fuck, he was so dammed irritated. Neil frowned and put the coffee down onto the bar. 

 

“No.” The frown lines on his forehead deepened, his mouth twisted downward. Offended? Could he blame him for guessing? Well, maybe. 

 

“Then what?” It was too early for games. He didn't even mean to antagonize the man. 

 

“The file on your laptop –did you delete it?” _Ah, that_. 

 

“No.” There was an involuntary twitch, and those blue eyes stared down at his coffee, not meeting his hazel ones.

 

“Could you delete it? Please?” _Manners_. Neil could just tell him to get the fuck on with it. It was what they had agreed on. Seemed like he didn't trust him to honor that agreement though. _What kind of bastard do you think I am?_

 

“Yeah.” Neil looked up at him, judging. “Should I do it right now? Wanna watch me do it?” He tried to reach for his usual not-giving-a-shit personality, but he had misplaced it somewhere last night. He was taunting Neil for responses he didn't like, just so he could take it out on him. 

 

“Yes, please.” And there it was. It wasn't begging, he reminded himself. It was just polite bullshit. 

 

“Stop it.” 

 

“What?” The taller man looked confused. 

 

“Stop saying that,” Andrew replied coldly. 

 

“But you said–“

 

“‘ _Please_ ’, stop saying that. It makes me wanna puke and I haven't even eaten yet.” 

 

Still confused, Neil replied, “Okay…” Andrew sighed and glared at him. This was fucked up. This was not how things should go after last night. Neil needed to leave _now_ or he would do something he would regret later and Andrew was not fond of regrets. 

 

“Come on,” he muttered and tried to get a grip. He shoved his hands into his pockets and went back to his bedroom door. Before he opened it, he turned and stared at Neil. He didn't want the man in there, he realized. Not today. Not after last night. Andrew pointed at the floor between them, telling Neil to stay, like you would with a well trained dog. Neil did and Andrew left the door open for him to watch. He got the laptop and took it out into the hallway. There he let Neil watch as he deleted the video file and wiped it off the hard drive. He assumed Neil had taken care of the camera already. “Happy now?” 

 

“Yes. Thanks.” Politeness was like an armor for some people, Andrew knew. They hid behind it, making it harder to attack them. It didn't work with him but he didn't tell Neil that. Andrew didn't give a fuck about politeness. All he wanted was honesty, no matter how crudely it was delivered. 

 

“Good.” He turned and tossed the laptop across the room back onto the bed. Lucky for the thing, it stayed on top and didn't bounce off the other side. He faced Neil again and looked at the man. No wonder he was confused about the whole thing. Andrew himself couldn't figure out what was going on right now. 

 

“I have to go now.” _Yes, you do_. He nodded. He followed Neil to the apartment door, watched him pulling on his shoes and reaching for his jacket. 

 

Before he could leave though, Andrew opened his mouth without thinking. “Hey.” Neil turned around again and waited. Andrew didn't even know what he had wanted to say. He had simply wanted to stop the man when he had seen him leaving like that. 

 

“Nothing. Nevermind.” Neil kept looking at him a moment longer, and then he nodded. 

 

“See you.” Would he? After the one-eighty he had pulled last night? He wanted to. 

 

“See you,” he agreed and closed the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ♞♠︎since I've asked a few of you before: what DO Andrew and Neil sound like in your head? I'm seriously interested. Not many things help me write more than a perfectly fitting voice in my head.♠︎♞


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Exy, there are no sick days! –Kevin Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me again... throwing the next chapter at you –Here! Take it!   
> 12 more pages, no more short chapters ahead.
> 
> (getting a strange feeling lately while I'm writing this. dunno...)

 

They sat in a little Vietnamese restaurant, her choice, at a small table in the last corner, his. They had ordered, and then chose to ignore the awkward small talk in favor of briefly discussing next week’s team schedule. When the food came Allison changed the topic. 

 

“I agree this will be a little awkward, Minyard, but humor me. Why the rent boy? And I’m not even talking about _this_ ,” she held up the file, “piece of … _work,”_ she checked herself. “It’s not like you are ugly. Yes, you are –let’s say _complicated_ , for argument’s sake, but there are far worse guys out there who get by without paying.” 

 

She handed him the file, which he put to the side. He wouldn’t read it here. Andrew would have preferred to do this at home, but she had insisted. “I’ll cover this up for you but not the next one. So be careful.” His face was as impassive as a marble statue. Allison sighed. She took another bite of her summer roll and decided to change tactics again.

 

“You are just listening because I brought you the file, I know. But seriously, did you see the interview with Knox and Moreau? The fans love it. Fuck the homophobic douchebags out there. There are enough people who’d willingly tear them to shreds. They’d make you look tame in comparison, Andrew. If you’d just play nice for the media…” He gave her a look. “Okay, _fine_ , I’d like to have my own gay Exy couple to sell. Can you blame me? It sells.” Apparently, his food was more interesting than her conversation. 

 

“Is this going to be one of those conversations where you don’t speak a single word?” She got no reaction out of him this time. “You know what? I don’t care. I talk enough for the both of us, and I still speak Minyard fluently.” That one was a lie. He let it slip. She knew it too, because she stopped talking for a little while and finished her dish. 

 

“Why did you never make a move on Kevin?” Allison didn’t look up this time. Her tone had dropped to a more serious note, which told him that they had moved on from gossip girl to personally invested ex-teammate. “You like him. Don’t tell me you don’t. You’ve spent too much time with him, it’s so obvious.” 

 

“I wonder what Thea would have to say to that conversation,” he scoffed. It was the first thing he’d said since the food arrived.

 

“Thea?” There was real amusement in her voice, which made his cá kho tộ taste bitter all of the sudden. “She’d be the least of your problems, believe me. She actually asked me if there is anything between you two. Seems like she doesn’t trust Kevin to tell her the truth.” Andrew glared at his plate. “Is he not your type?” 

 

“Kevin suffers from a condition that makes him seriously unattractive.” 

 

“What?” she asked, bemused and eager to hear it.

 

“Exy brain.” 

 

She laughed at that. “That’s also your ticket into his… wherever you would want to go. All you need to do is to talk Exy to him. That’s all it takes, apparently. At least if you believe Thea.” He was done with this topic. Kevin was no one he allowed into those kinds of thoughts. He had been basically inseparable from the guy for years. There had been only two options:keep Kevin completely out of any kind of fantasies and stick a huge, metal warning sign with KEEP OUT written on it in front, or go all the way. There had been no room in-between for him. 

 

“Gross.” 

 

“I think he’d be good for you.” He didn’t look up while he reached for his wallet and left enough money on the table to cover the bill. “See you, Andrew,” she told him and he left without another word, the file in his hand. He had what he came for. 

 

He lit a cigarette as soon as he stepped outside. Good for him, she’d said, Kevin… He inhaled deeply and frowned at the cloudy sky. No, he decided, he wouldn’t go down that rabbit hole. Kevin was many things to him, and maybe ‘ _good_ ’ was on that list, but that didn’t mean he would change anything between them and risk it all. It also didn’t mean _he_ would be good for Kevin. 

 

 

 

 

 

“You did good.” Neil received a loving pat on his ass before his client finally got up, disposed of the condom and vanished into the bathroom of the hotel room. Neil rubbed his cheek against the bed sheets until his black blindfold slid upwards. Some clients wanted him to stay still until he was finally dismissed. This one didn't care either way and had actually watched him once before escaping his bonds, leaning against the doorframe, saying nothing while admiring the view. 

 

Neil’s wrists were tied behind his back with a zip tie. The scissors to cut them lay on the bedside table. Neil preferred zip ties above any other kind of restraints because he could break them without much effort by himself, no matter if they were tied in front or back. Duct tape was fine too, and could be escaped by the same technique. Neil could pick the locks of handcuffs without seeing them. Lock picking in general was a skill he had acquired early in his life. Ropes on the other hand, ropes could be nasty things. Depending on the material and skill of the one tying them, they could be pretty much impossible to escape from without assistance. Neil avoided them whenever he could, in fact, he charged extra for bondage and only allowed it with long-term clients. 

 

He shook his head to get rid of the blindfold entirely. What worried him was that lingering weakness in his limbs he couldn't get rid of all day. Getting out of bed this morning had taken some effort. He was almost sure he was coming down with something. He hadn't told his client. Maybe a dick move on his part, but quite frankly, Neil didn't give a shit if he gave the man a common cold or a sore throat. He could get that everywhere and Neil had bills to pay. 

 

He waited, lying on his stomach, until his client returned and cut his restraints. The back of his thighs burned when he sat up. They were angry red but it would fade soon enough, leaving no mark behind. His client got dressed without another word. That was normal. Once they were done this man never wasted many words. Neil thought he was still replaying the scene they had just done in his head and didn't like to be disturbed doing so. He was more than okay with that. Neil hated any kind of aftercare. He got dressed without bothering to use the bathroom or clean up in any way. All he wanted today was to get paid and go home. He could take care of everything once he got there. He was tired. 

 

The man in front of him handed him his money, as usual, in a blank, regular white envelope. Neil counted it briefly, but he knew he was being paid the amount they had agreed on. This was one of his regulars. They exchanged a look and a nod and it was Neil who left first. 

 

The elevator seemed to take ages. He could already feel the beginnings of a headache. Neil sighed. Getting sick was always a problem. He counted himself lucky that he had never come down with something serious. He had his fair share of minor infections and other smaller injuries though. He took care of them himself whenever he could, avoiding physicians and hospitals as much as possible. 

 

_Please, let this be just a cold_ , he prayed to no god in particular. If there was someone up there watching him, he was some kind of a sadist and Neil didn't require any more of his special attention if possible. 

 

He wasn't surprised that it was still raining outside. It had been raining all day. It still sucked. He needed to get something to eat on his way home after skipping the grocery shopping today. He wasn't hungry, but he also wasn't a fool, and he knew he needed to eat. Maybe he wouldn't be able to tomorrow if he had caught some kind of stomach bug. Those usually sucked. He settled on Subway for tonight and hurried home. Another thing that had bothered him the last couple of days was the feeling of being watched. It could be his paranoia catching up again, but Neil wouldn’t dismiss it so easily. He kept looking for someone following him, for anything unusual, but he found nothing. 

 

The sandwich ended up on his kitchen counter while Neal dragged himself into his bathroom. All he wanted to do right now was to lie down, but he knew that once he was on his bed, he wouldn't get up anymore tonight. He stood in front of the sink, took his contacts out, took some Advil, and stepped into the shower where he scrubbed himself clean twice. 

 

Back in the kitchen, he managed half of his sandwich before giving up and going to bed early. He pulled the covers up over his shoulders and shivered. _Great_ , he thought, _definitely going to be sick in the morning_. 

 

 

He woke with a pounding headache and a sore throat. He tried swallowing a few times, but it made no difference. Neil put a hand over his eyes to block out the light. Staying in bed sounded like a great idea. His headache couldn’t be ignored though. Slowly, Neil got up and shuffled over into his bathroom. He looked like shit when his eyes looked back at him from within the mirror. Bedhead was an understatement and his paleness wasn’t the flattering kind, neither were those dark circles under his eyes. He swallowed some painkillers and leaned in closer to the mirror. His auburn hair was showing at the roots again. He needed to take care of that. Neil brushed his teeth in hope the minty toothpaste would ease his sore throat a little. It did not. He relieved himself and made it back to his bed. 

 

Sleep kept eluding him for the next two hours, even after his headache had subsided. He felt tired though and didn’t get back up until it was past noon. Assessing his condition again, Neil got dressed and decided to get the grocery shopping done now, in case this would turn into more than a sore throat later. He had made that mistake once before and would never make it again. Being barely able to get out of bed with no food at home for three days, while suffering from crippling paranoia had been a terrible experience. He hadn’t even dared to order something to eat back then, his mind had been too hazy from fever dreams. 

 

‘ _Help me_ ,’ had never been on the tip of his tongue. _‘I’m fine,’_ was his personal mantra. It was way easier to accept than _‘I’m alone’_.

 

He dressed in warm clothes beneath his jacket and left his apartment. Almost immediately the feeling of being watched returned. He lowered his head and walked faster. Behind him a car started, but he had not heard the driver getting in. Neil glanced backwards and saw a black Audi with tinted windows pulling slowly into the street behind him. _Shit!_ Suddenly, the next corner seemed impossibly far away. Neil kept walking for a few more paces, but the car didn’t speed up. They knew they had been noticed. Worse, they knew where he lived. 

 

Neil’s feet hit the pavement in a sudden burst of speed. He ran down the street, around the next corner, down two blocks, left again when he reached the old church and behind it the run-down school. He climbed the fence there and kept running. Teenagers were turning their heads, calling after him, but he didn’t stop. The fear and sudden rush of adrenalin kept his legs moving but not for long. He was sure he had gotten rid of the black Audi, when his knees buckled and he had to catch himself on a wall, panting. _Shit, shit, shit…_ Where should he go? He felt like throwing up, was sweating and couldn’t catch his breath. 

 

_Don’t do this now_ , he told himself. If he was losing his shit now, if he would give in and let the fear take over, he wouldn’t make it. He would bolt and run blindly like he used to years ago. _Get a grip!_ His feet started to move again, slower this time, with his knees shaking a little. Every face turning in his direction felt like a threat, and he kept walking. He found the next subway station and took the next train. He didn’t care in which direction it took him. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that he kept moving for now. 

 

He switched trains again and again, made it halfway across the city and changed directions again. He knew he was being paranoid while he kept looking for suspicious faces among the passengers. Neil got off at a random station with no other goal in mind than to escape the people who had taken the same subway as him, who had entered the same time he had and not gotten off again. He couldn’t stand being around them right now, they made him nervous. It was dark outside when he exited the station. Neil had never been in this part of the city before and felt suddenly lost. It was irrational, of course. All he had to do was to take the train back. 

 

He found a bench and sat down, thoughts still racing. How had they found him? Could he be sure it was them? Who else would it be? But why would they follow him if they already knew where he lived? It made no sense. Had he made a mistake? Had he overreacted? No, no, thinking that was foolish and dangerous. 

 

His hand reached into his pocket for his phone to check the time. Almost seven. Without thinking, he went through his contacts until he found Andrew. Just looking at his name felt comforting for some reason. Neil waited for a few minutes, but it didn’t feel like he could get up and leave right now. He ran a hand through his hair and exhaled forcefully. His chest felt tight. His thumb hovered over the call button. It took him a long moment to give in, and some part of him hoped Andrew wouldn’t pick up. 

 

“What?” Neil closed his eyes as Andrew answered his call. He opened his mouth to say something, but his brain came up short of a reply. There was an awkward pause while both of them waited for the other to speak. 

 

“Neil?” Neil took a shuddering breath and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. 

 

“You know, that’s the first time you called me by my name.” He tried very hard to keep his voice even. It ended up sounding flat in a way that rivaled Andrew’s tone. 

 

“Is it?” Yes, it was, he was sure of it. 

 

“Hm?” He just wanted to listen to Andrew’s voice for a little longer. He didn't want to be alone right now. 

 

“Your name?” Andrew asked. What? He hadn't believed him back then? Was that the reason why he never used it? 

 

Neil managed a pathetic sounding laugh. “Yeah. It is.” 

 

“Where are you?” He wanted to tell him. He wanted to see if Andrew would come and get him, but he knew he couldn't do that. He had nothing to offer right now. He needed to go home and figure it out. Sitting outside in the middle of nowhere wouldn't help one bit. It would only trigger his panic attacks and then he would really be in trouble. 

 

“Don’t ask.” There was silence then. “I’m sorry. I didn't mean to call. Really, I’m fine. Forget it…” He was babbling, he realized. With something close to panic, he hung up. It took him another hour to get home. The car was long gone but he hurried inside nevertheless. 

 

 

 

 

Andrew’s next message woke him early Tuesday morning. ’ _tonight?’_ The goalkeeper must have been on his way to an early training session. Neil had hoped to feel better by now, but that hope had dwindled and left him with the harsh reality. This was not just a cold. He was sick. 

 

‘ _Can’t make it this week.’_ He had planed to text Andrew this morning, but the Exy player had beaten him to it. _‘Sorry,’_ he added. He got no response for hours and drifted back into sleep. By the time Andrew did text back, he had not expected him to anymore. It was already late in the evening.

 

_‘can I come up?’_ It was the same message he had sent Andrew when he had shown up at his apartment unannounced in the middle of the night. Neil wanted to say no, for more than one reason, but it was because Andrew used the exact same question that he felt bad about refusing. 

 

Neil sighed and coughed and made a face when it hurt like a bitch. He was not one of those people who preferred to suffer for the entire world to see. He was the exact opposite. Maybe Andrew would be satisfied to see him and leave afterwards. Neil didn’t think he would have the energy to face the man tonight. He texted his short reply to Andrew and got up, taking a moment to get rid of the dizziness.

 

 

 

Andrew could tell by Neil’s guarded expression that the man wasn't thrilled to see him. He could also see by the hand that grabbed the doorframe for support, the old t-shirt and sweatpants he was wearing, and his more than pale face that he felt like crap. Andrew took it all in and something must have shown on his face because Neil furrowed his brows and managed to look as much annoyed as pained as he finally let go of the cracked-open door to reveal the rest of himself. 

 

“…o…ease, ’t’s just strep throat,” he croaked, the first words unintelligible. 

 

“You sure about that?” He meant it like ‘you look half dead’, mocking, not in a worried, caring way –well, maybe a little. 

 

“Yeah,” Neil sighed and Andrew got the impression that it wasn't the first time this had happened. 

 

“Can I come in?” Not what Neil had expected, he figured out, when the man looked at him in bewilderment. _Newsflash, I’m not here just to make sure one of your tricks hasn't beaten the shit out of you_. 

 

“Suit yourself.” Neil turned around and left the door open. He went straight back into the main room of his studio apartment and sat down on his bed, leaning slightly forward and grabbing the simple wooden frame with both hands, eyes staring at the floor in front of him. 

 

Andrew closed the door behind himself and looked around. Small hallway, bathroom door to the left, shoes right next to the door, and an Exy racquet leaning against the wall. Backliner, on the heavier side, well used but still in good condition. The single room had an antiquated kitchen unit to the right, Neil’s bed stood in the corner to the left, his Exy gear lay next to Andrew at the door on the floor, a DIY clothing rack hung from the ceiling next to it, and a metal drawer stood right next to that. End of story. No table, no couch, not even a rug on the old hardwood floor. The place was clean but managed to look beyond run down. Andrew was intrigued. 

 

His main object of interest still sat on his bed, was still looking at the floor, as if waiting for the verdict. “Have you seen a doctor?” 

 

“Not yet.” Meaning he wouldn’t; after all, he had diagnosed himself already. Fool. Andrew leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms in front of his chest. He could hear Neil swallow with some difficulty through his swollen throat, could imagine the pain it caused. Strep throat, not exactly one of his favorites either. He had it a few times when had been a kid. 

 

“So you relish any kind of pain.” He went over to the kitchen unit and looked inside the fridge. Almost empty, no empty takeout containers in sight either. 

 

“What?” Sounded like Neil wasn't his witty self today and had trouble following the conversation. “No,” he finally answered, a little annoyed maybe. A sick Neil was a grumpy one, Andrew decided. Not the only one he knew of that kind. He closed the fridge again. 

 

“Go back to bed,” he said and turned, leaving the room and Neil behind, closing the door. 

 

 

An hour later he was back, managed to wake Neil again, and repeated their meeting upstairs at the apartment door. 

 

“Now what?” Oh yeah, definitely grumpy while sick. Andrew simply raised his chin, shoulders squared and waited; watched Neil caving and stepping back again. So easy. 

 

“Catch,” he told him, as he passed him on his way back into the kitchen. Nice reflexes, he noted when Neil caught the box of Penicillin he had aimed at his head. 

 

“Where did you get that?” Suspicion, really now? He had told the guy he was using drugs, but Neil frowned at Penicillin? 

 

“Not from your doctor,” he scoffed. Andrew found three glasses above the sink, filled one with water, and brought it over to the bed. 

 

“Thanks,” the taller man managed to find his manners. Andrew waited until he had taken the medicine and took the now empty glass again. He grabbed a few strands of black hair, palm pressing against Neil’s forehead and pushed. It didn't take much force until Neil tilted and fell back onto the bed, grunting in protest to be manhandled like that. 

 

“Lie down.” Slight fever. Andrew went back and washed his hands, then searched for plates and forks so he could split the Chinese takeout between the two of them. Maybe not the healthiest choice, but he had felt like it. And Neil –well, beggars can’t be choosers. His host wasn't exactly chatty today anyway. Andrew doubted he would complain. He brought the two plates and the refilled glass back to Neil and raised an eyebrow. The young man lay on his back, one arm draped over his eyes, one knee raised, naked toes curled and gripping the bed sheets, cheeks flushed, goosebumps on his naked forearms. Andrew blinked. He couldn't figure that one out, he realized. Embarrassment? Shame? Maybe, he wasn't sure why though. 

 

Neil noticed Andrew had been staring and lowered the arm to look up at the goalkeeper. He noticed the plates and accepted one, sitting up in the process, propped his back up against the wall and tugged his legs in to leave room for the other man. Andrew ignored that and sat down in front of the bed on the floor. He placed the glass next to the bed, out of the way, but still in reach for later and started to eat, facing the strangely empty room. 

 

What was he doing here, he asked himself. This wasn’t why he had come here. The reason he had come was the file in his apartment, and the unexpected text telling him that Neil didn’t want to see him this week. _Running away_ , he had wondered. And what had been the deal with that last phone call? Well, the man was obviously sick but he didn’t strike Andrew as someone who would ask for help. _No_ , he thought, _this guy would suffer in silence._

 

He took the now empty plates and put them aside. One look at Neil told him, that the man was more than uncomfortable with him being here. He didn’t say anything, but he kept that glare fixed on his face. Another broken rule. Well, Neil had that one coming from when he had shown up at his apartment before. 

 

“So hostile. I just fed you, you know?” Neil lowered his gaze at that, staring at his blanket. His response was unintelligible due to another coughing fit. It looked like it hurt quite a bit. “Could be mono,” Andrew observed. Could be a lot of things. Coughing didn’t usually present that severely in strep throat infections. Neil shot him another angry look between coughs. 

 

“Told you it’s strep,” he croaked. It almost sounded like he needed to convince himself the most of all. Why? Afraid it might be something else? 

 

“ _And_ a cold? Whom did you fuck recently? A walking cesspool? Did you charge him extra?” Andrew was getting annoyed. _He_ had kissed this guy recently. Granted, that had been three days ago, and he should have noticed something by now, but still. 

 

Neil sighed and leaned back again, one hand covering his eyes. “I might have been outside running,” he admitted. What an idiot. And how did he manage to look so miserable all of the sudden? How annoying. Andrew watched him for a while, saw his throat working and the feverish color rising in his cheeks, saw the nervous tension in his body that could have only been caused by having someone he didn’t trust around in his state.

 

“Yes or no,” Andrew asked in a low voice, hand hovering in the air above Neil’s head. No friend of words today, Neil gazed up at it for a moment, then turned his head and leaned into the touch. He sank back into the pillow once more, and Andrew’s hand followed him, fingers playing with black strands of hair. The gesture had pleased Andrew. There was no real trust between them, but Neil was willing to risk it for him, even if they met outside their business arrangement. Or was this part of his scheme? 

 

After a few minutes, Neil turned around to face the wall. Neither of them spoke, but Andrew was about to pull his hand back when Neil reached up to grab it, glancing over his shoulder. He didn’t touch Andrew’s hand but waited, and Andrew closed the gap and moved his hand up into Neil’s waiting palm. Closing his eyes again, Neil pulled Andrew’s hand back down on top of his head and squeezed once before letting go. Andrew humored him once more. _Odd_ , crossed his mind, and it took him a moment to place the thought. It was, he realized, the fact that Neil trusted him enough to bare his back to him, something Andrew would never do. But not everyone was like him. For some people trust came easy. He just hadn’t thought Neil would be one of them. 

 

There was nothing sexual about this, yet it felt awfully intimate. Andrew hadn't been keen on any physical contact after the disaster in his living room, he realized; apart from the kiss in the parking lot, and that had been mostly anger and frustration. They were back to square one, him touching Neil, and the other man waiting for permission. 

 

Andrew was lost in thought, running his fingers through Neil’s hair over and over, until the young man shivered again. “Cold?” Neil shook his head. _Then what?_ Andrew thought about that strange picture of Neil lying on his back again. 

 

After a while, the taller man turned around, squinting at Andrew. “I don’t mean to kick you out, but I really don’t think I can stay awake much longer.” 

 

Andrew stood up. The file could wait another day or two, he decided. Neil didn’t look like he would run away any time soon. He turned to leave, when Neil sat up. “Andrew.” The goalkeeper waited. “Thank you.” 

 

“Shut up and get some sleep.” 

 

 

 

 

To say Neil had felt uncomfortable with Andrew around would be an understatement. No clients at home – _don’t think about it. Not now. You got bigger problems right now_. The visit of the goalkeeper had left him in a strangely vulnerable state of mind.

 

He had woken up in the middle of the night, imagining that he had heard something –no, _someone_ inside his apartment. No one had been in his kitchen/living room/bedroom, which had left him with the small hallway and the bathroom. He had grabbed his Exy racquet from beside the door to hunt down his imaginary intruder in his tiny apartment. His fever had spiked, but Neil knew all too well that his mind was capable of playing tricks on him even on his best days. Feeling exhausted, he had slumped down onto his bed again with his Exy racquet by his side. It was still there.

 

The feeling of not being alone hadn’t left him afterwards. More than once, Neil had carefully looked outside the window to check for the black Audi. It hadn’t turned up again. Maybe they had gotten rid of it. Neil didn’t dare to turn on the lights anymore. 

 

Andrew’s text in the early afternoon made him jump. _‘still alive?_ ’ A sigh of relief escaped him and Neil rubbed a hand over his pale face. 

 

_‘People don’t die of strep.’_ Texting with Andrew made him feel calmer immediately. It made him feel like he was not alone. As much as he hated the thought of visitors, now that Andrew had broken that rule he wished the man would come by again. It was very unprofessional of him to think so, he admitted. 

 

_‘idiots who run in the cold might. did u put that theory to the test again?’_ He would if he could, Neil knew, not for exercise though. 

 

_‘No.’_ The walls were closing in. He hated that feeling. _‘How was your day?’_ He had Andrew’s permission now to make this a little more personal, right? He honestly didn’t know anymore what was going on between them. 

 

_‘r u bored’_ He frowned down at his phone. 

 

_‘Are you driving?’_ There was nothing for a while. Neil closed his eyes, but kept the phone in his hand. 

 

_‘what’s for dinner’_ Right, he should eat. The thought of leaving his apartment was anything but appealing. 

 

_‘Haven’t decided yet.’_ Maybe he should order in. 

 

_‘tick tock says the clock’_ Was he asking him? _‘cut the not eating crap already. it’s getting old’_ Really? Neil felt a sudden rush of excitement. 

 

_‘Your choice.’_ He shivered a little, and it wasn’t entirely because of his illness. 

 

_‘30mins’_ Right. Time to get cleaned up a little. Grabbing a change of clothes, his second sweat pants and his black knitted sweater, Neil took a quick shower. 

 

Half an hour later, he opened the door for Andrew. The goalkeeper regarded him with a scrutinizing look. Neil knew that he didn’t look his best at the moment. For someone who’s looks were a huge part of his job, it wasn’t a comfortable thought. 

 

“How are you?”

 

“I’m fine,” he answered automatically. “Come in,” Neil offered, more to escape Andrew’s eyes for a moment than to be polite. Andrew passed him by and Neil could hear him inhaling a little deeper. The taller man blinked. “What…,” he asked, a touch of nervousness in his voice. 

 

“Last time was the first time I hadn’t met you fresh out of the shower.” Neil closed the door and followed Andrew. 

 

“That’s what happens if you show up unannounced,” Neil answered unapologetically. 

 

“I thought it was a hooker thing –but maybe not.” The blonde put two pizza boxes onto the kitchen counter and looked at him again. Neil sighed. Andrew calling him a hooker again squashed his rising mood. 

 

“It’s not,” he agreed. Those hazel eyes looked at him piercingly. Neil wondered for a moment if the goalkeeper had taken something again, but his pupils looked normal. Judging the room to be too dark, Andrew flicked the light switch on. A wave of uneasiness swallowed Neil and he fought hard not to let it show. He buried his hands in his pockets. 

 

“Lies should hurt, Neil. The truth only hurts when you have something to hide.” His eyes widened as he heard Andrew say those words. He swallowed, ignored the pain it caused him. Andrew saying his name would take some getting used to. Andrew calling him a liar was nothing new, and the goalkeeper thinking that he needed to rub Neil’s face in his precious truths wasn’t either. The combination of all three made Neil feel uncomfortable. 

 

“And here I was, thinking we could leave the _hooker thing_ out of this apartment. That’s what you get if a _john_ comes to visit, right? Silly me.” He tried not to sound too indignant about it. Andrew grinned and wagged a finger at him. 

 

“Oh, Neil,” he mocked. The taller man narrowed his eyes. 

 

“You know, that name will wear off if you use it so much all of the sudden.”

 

“It’s yours, right?” Andrew crossed his arms in front of his chest. 

 

“Yes, I’ve told you. That’s my name. You don’t like it or something?” Why could they never get along? He had looked forward to seeing Andrew tonight and now they were already taunting each other again. “Whatever,” he said, before Andrew could reply. “I’m a little irritated today.” He would take the blame this time. It was his peace offering. 

 

“I couldn’t tell,” Andrew joked. He nodded at the pizza. “Hungry?” _No_ , Neil thought. He had been earlier, but he wasn’t feeling hungry anymore. 

 

“Let’s eat,” he agreed nevertheless. Since his place lacked most of the usual furniture, they sat down in front of his bed. Andrew led by example, seemingly avoiding Neil’s bed, and went once again over to examining the room while they ate. 

 

“It’s nothing like your place,” Neil said, “but what’s so interesting? I don’t get it.” There was nothing really interesting here, he thought. The only thing he’d regret leaving behind would be his Exy gear if it came to that. It probably would; most likely sooner than later now. 

 

Andrew shrugged and finished another slice. “Fits you,” was all he had to say. Neil took a deliberate breath in and out through his nose. An empty apartment fit Andrew’s assumptions of a hooker, most likely. He didn’t ask. He pushed his half-eaten pizza away. 

 

“How was practice,” he changed the topic, drumming his fingers on his leg. 

 

“The usual,” the goalkeeper replied, not trying to keep the conversation alive. 

 

“Tell me about it.” Neil fidgeted a little. He could hear a car stopping in front of the house, heard the doors opening and closing. Immediately his thoughts jumped to a black Audi. 

 

“A bunch of people running behind a ball across the field, swinging sticks around.” Andrew sounded bored. He left his last two slices untouched and pushed the pizza box away. 

 

“Sounds awesome to me,” Neil said, but his usual enthusiasm when it came to Exy was painfully missing. The words were empty, his mind miles away. Andrew didn’t say anything this time, declaring the conversation dead. _He might actually leave now_ , Neil realized. He didn’t want that. The whole evening had felt full of tension. He didn’t want to guess what it would feel like to be alone again now. 

 

He was getting nervous. The feeling was driving him insane. The urge to run wouldn't leave him anymore and he could do nothing about it. His own body wouldn't let him, and he felt the panic rising again. 

 

“Can I ask you for something?” Even asking permission was difficult. He avoided Andrew’s eyes. 

 

“Go ahead.” Andrew seemed curious. Neil made himself look up and face him, because even though he felt pathetic, it didn't mean he wanted to display it openly. 

 

“Can we go somewhere? Can we take your car and just get out of here for a while?” He felt close to begging at this point. Andrew looked at him, trying to figure something out, and Neil couldn't take it right now. “Ask me to do something in return, just, _please_ , Andrew–“ He winced but Andrew had noticed. 

 

“I hate begging.” 

 

“Sorry. I know, I…” He ran a hand through his hair. _Stop babbling_ , he told himself. Andrew kept watching him. Neil couldn't tell for how long. It could have been minutes or seconds, he just tried to keep himself together in front of the man, tried to stay calm and fight the panic down.

 

“My turn,” Andrew said suddenly and Neil flinched. 

 

“Not right now,” he managed weakly. He couldn't do this right now. He wouldn't be able to dodge any important questions. 

 

“Tell me why you are afraid.” Andrew ignored him. 

 

“Andrew,” Neil said pleadingly. He felt cornered. There was sweat trickling down his neck. It erupted on his forehead and temples from his pores and his heart was pounding. 

 

“Who are you running from?” The goalkeeper showed no signs of pity. His voice was as flat as usual but suddenly cold instead of uncaring.

 

“Andrew,” Neil whined. This was a nightmare; Neil tried to tell himself it was just another nightmare. But then, why was his stomach hurting and why was his chest getting tight and wouldn't let him breath? No, that wasn't right. He was breathing; he was getting close to hyperventilating already. He had lost the race; the panic had caught up. He needed to get out. He tried to get up, tried to get onto his feet but Andrew wouldn't let him. He tried to fight him, but that was impossible.

 

“Get out,” he tried to scream. His voice cracked. He was going to be sick. Saliva was already pooling in his mouth. “Get away from me!” He gaged and pressed a hand over his mouth with a choking sound. Now Andrew let him up and watched him stumble across the room, watched as he barely caught himself on the doorframe, before his legs gave out under him, and he half crawled, half stumbled the last two steps into the bathroom. 

 

Neil knew this was a panic attack. It wasn't his first one and it wouldn't be his last. He would make it through it, but it didn't feel like it right now. It never did.

 

While he was on his knees in front of the toilet, vomiting and gasping for breath, he heard Andrew entering the bathroom behind him. 

 

“Who’s gonna kiss you now?” There were tears and sweat and snot on Neil’s face, and he could do nothing about it right now. It was hard enough to stay upright. Andrew’s mocking words could have cut him to the bone, but he just felt numb. He could barely pay attention to them anyway. He thought Andrew should feel like a threat, standing behind him, watching him, but he didn’t. 

 

“Tell me you are fine again, come on. Hate to break it to you, but your blanket of lies is full of holes. You have to work on that. You know, I enjoy your little lies, as long as they are creative.” 

 

Andrew was angry with him. It registered somewhere in the back of his brain. 

 

“Maybe we should play another game. No one is allowed to tell the truth anymore. You would be a natural, I’m sure. Or we skip everything relevant all together and just have small talk all the time. How about that? The weather is great, isn’t it? Looks like you didn't enjoy your dinner today. Too bad. You know, those meds won’t do you any good if you can’t keep them down.”

 

“Shut up,” he gasped, trying to stop himself from throwing up again. It hurt. It was just too much. “Fuck…” Andrew stood to the side, watching him, keeping his distance but not leaving either. He watched Neil unraveling, falling apart in front of him and took it all in. Neil had told him to shut up, but the silence felt even worse than all the mocking words. He couldn’t bear it to have Andrew just standing there like an observer. It made him feel exposed in all his twisted ugliness. 

 

“Just… keep talking,” Neil gave in, sounding wrecked. He usually did this alone, if he could help it. He would run and hide and wait for it to be over. He had never done this in front of anyone, but Andrew wouldn't leave. 

 

“What’s the highest score Kevin had in one game?” Neil took a few breaths and looked up at Andrew, head turned sideways. Exy? 

 

“E… eleven. Last season. Second… match.” He coughed and spat into the toilet. Andrew didn't even bat an eyelash, nor did he look disgusted. 

 

“Do you know how fast he is?” Of course he knew. He knew all about the man. He knew him better than Andrew. Kevin had lived his life exposed to the media.

 

“Yeah… runs a mile a–“ he coughed again, his stomach protested and made him dry-heave for a moment before he could take a breath, “…four fifteen,” he wheezed but managed a grin nevertheless. His brain was kicking back in while it coughed up those details through the mess it was in. 

 

“What’s funny about that?” 

 

“I’m faster…” He managed to get back up onto his feet and leaned his back against the wall opposite Andrew. His legs were still shaky but he was getting there. _Up, get up on your feet. Don’t let them catch you on your knees…_

 

“How fast?” 

 

“Four minutes.” Neil wiped the back of his hand at the snot under his nose. It didn't help much. He leaned his head back and shivered, but kept his roiling stomach under control. He was getting through this, he could tell now. All this Exy talk was getting him through it. He took deep breaths and used the cool tiles behind him for much needed support. His knees felt weak, but he needed to stand upright for a moment to prove himself that he still could. He would run if he could but that was out of the question.

 

“How fast am I?” Neil blinked and squinted at Andrew. His brain was still slow. Finally, he shook his head. 

 

“I don’t know,” he admitted, voice sounding raw. Andrew shrugged. 

 

“I don’t run.” Neil managed a pathetic excuse for a chuckle then, and allowed himself to slide down the wall, leaning his elbows onto his knees, and ran his shaky fingers through his sweaty hair. “But I could bench-press you.” 

 

“Oh hell…” Neil took another deep breath and grinned. “Are you actually calling me fat?” 

 

“Maybe?” 

 

“Fuck off,” he managed and laughed. It sounded rough, weak. 

 

“Are you done?” Showing concern or compassion clearly wasn't Andrew’s strong suit. Neil understood that, and he also understood that the goalkeeper was still supporting him in his own way. Turned out, it was enough. 

 

“Yeah,” Neil sighed. “Yeah, I’m done.” 

 

“Good.” Andrew turned around and left him. “Then get cleaned up. We are going out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My thoughts on Kandreil:  
>  _Yes_ , fuck yes, I'm into it. I want to write it. It's in my head. - It won't happen in here. Thea, imo, is a sorry excuse for a filler-character, with as much appeal to me as an empty fridge. (that's just me, no worries) - K/N/A on the other hand, is right down my alley. The endless possibilities with those three... - but I admit, I wouldn't be kind to them, so we better off without _that_ leaving my head. You are safe!
> 
>  
> 
> This is coming to an end. Technically, I'm done. Everything is written and I'm just playing around with it, until I'm satisfied enough to hit _save_... I think I haven't closed this pages file since I started writing the story. How much more is there? Hmm... enough for two... maybe three chapters. it's going to be...... _cough_ interesting _cough_


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "we are done here..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...something sweet and something bitter –what else do you need, pray tell?

 

Something about moving around, about not staying in one place, could ease Neil’s anxiety sometimes like nothing else. It was a remnant of his past, of the time he had been on the run with his mother. Sitting in the passenger’s seat of the black Maserati while the city rushed by outside of the window calmed his fried nerves, got rid of the twitchy movements and the crawling feeling under his skin. It made breathing an unconsciously performed body function again, instead of one that required constant thought. 

 

The leather seat felt cool to the touch, and Andrew didn’t ask before he turned on the heat that started to lure him in and made him relax until he was slumped backwards, his head lolling sideways, eyes taking in the scenery outside. Coming down from a panic attack was always rough, but doing it while still recovering from his illness had wiped Neil out. He hadn’t moved an inch in the last ten minutes, and he started to get this strange feeling in his extremities, that fake detachment that came with complete muscle relaxation, confusing the brain about the actual positioning. 

 

Andrew seemed to understand that he was in no condition for any kind of conversation right now, and Neil was grateful for that. The only sound was that of the car, and that one was a deeply satisfying one. It was the sound of power and speed resonating in his chest. Andrew didn’t ask where he wanted to go, and Neil would have no answer for him anyway. He had no destination in mind. Going for a drive was all he needed. Not having a destination was such a familiar feeling to him that he didn’t question it anymore. 

 

The view outside became more desolate, and he realized that they had reached the outskirts of the city. His eyelids felt heavy when he blinked and turned his head to the other side, looking at Andrew. He did not mind being alone with the man in his vulnerable state. That was strange, normally it would have worried him, would have made him at least at bit nervous. He was in no shape to fight or escape Andrew right now. _When did I start trusting him?_ He didn’t know. Fact was he didn’t completely trust Andrew Minyard. He trusted him as a client, and even that was bizarre in some way since Andrew was potentially dangerous. It was the moment when Andrew had admitted to being violent that Neil started feeling safer nonetheless. But this right now was something else.

 

Andrew’s eyes were on the road, his posture relaxed, and his expression thoughtful, no doubt thinking of the nervous breakdown he had just witnessed. Neil felt a little ashamed because of it. He wanted to talk to Andrew to distract them both from what had just happened, but his tongue didn’t comply, wouldn’t move, and his brain came up with no interesting topics. He felt beyond tired. Grimacing a little he rubbed his eyes and blinked a couple of times, trying to focus more. His arms and legs felt heavy. 

 

“You can put the seat back,” Andrew said quietly. He leaned a bit forward to have a better view at a busy crossing, but never looked at Neil. 

 

“It’s okay. I don’t want to fall asleep,” Neil answered groggily. 

 

“I’m not gonna kidnap you,” Andrew mocked. There was no edge behind those words, but they hit home anyway. 

 

“I just…” He searched for words. “It’s not you. I just can’t sleep with someone around. Old habits, I guess,” he added apologetically. Andrew shrugged, unoffended. Neil coughed, making his raw throat scream in protest at him. He tried clearing it, but his body thought it was about time to do something for his oxygen intake by getting rid of the mucus in his bronchi. “Damn,” he grumbled hoarsely when his coughing fit subsided. Andrew didn’t comment, just reached beside himself and threw something small at Neil. The young man barely managed to catch it, and it turned out to be candy. He looked down at it and felt a smile tugging at the corners of his lips when _Andrew_ _Minyard_ and _sweet tooth_ crossed his mind. So unexpectedly cute, it still got to him. “Thanks,” he said, his voice a raspy mess. 

 

They left the city and as the dark road in front of them cleared, Andrew floored the gas pedal. The Maserati purred and Neil enjoyed the feeling of being pressed back into his seat. It gave him goosebumps and the smile overtook his lips in earnest now, bordering on a full-fledged grin, showing teeth and all. Andrew saw it, answering with one of his crooked ones. The goalkeeper shifted gears and the car obeyed him like a stallion given free rein. Neil let his eyes slide close and purred low in the back of his throat. If he didn’t feel like crap right now, the combination of Andrew and this obscenely fast black car could give him a hard-on. He looked down when Andrew took his hand and placed it on the gearshift with his own on top. 

 

“Very subtle,” he joked, but he liked it and grabbed the gearshift harder, Andrew’s fingers interlacing with his. 

 

“You wanna drive?” He blinked, thought he must have misheard the Exy player. Andrew’s eyes were on the road again. 

 

“Are you kidding?” He must be. Who would hand their Maserati car keys to their hooker –as Andrew never failed to call him. _He’s also calling you Neil now_. That still felt strange. 

 

“You can drive?” Andrew made sure. There were cars not far in front of them now, and Andrew’s foot eased off the gas again. 

 

“I can,” Neil nodded, letting Andrew grab his hand tighter as he shifted gears. Neil had learned to drive very early in his life, even before it had been legal for him to do so. He had never gotten behind the wheel of a sports car like this one though. It was a little intimidating. 

 

“So?” Andrew didn’t seem to mind. It was tempting. 

 

“Ask me again when I don’t have trouble keeping my eyes open, and I won’t say no.” He would never forgive himself if he would get them into an accident. Andrew shrugged.

 

“Then don’t,” he said. Neil didn’t quite follow. 

 

“Hm?” 

 

“Keep them open,” the goalkeeper elaborated. 

 

“I told you I don’t want to sleep.” 

 

“Like this?” Andrew shifted gears again, his hand warm on Neil’s. “Could you?” Fair point. Neil grumbled an unintelligible reply, like a kid who had just lost an argument, and sunk a little deeper into his seat. The moment he closed his eyes he knew he didn’t want to open them again any time soon. _Don’t let go_ , he wanted to say but knew how childish that would sound. _Don’t let me sleep_. He concentrated on the sound of the car. 

 

“Say something,” he asked Andrew. “Anything.” 

 

“Anything,” Andrew replied. Neil smirked a little. 

 

“Why are you so nice all of the sudden?” It felt so different from how it had been this evening between them. He feared asking Andrew would ruin the mood again, but he really wanted to know.

 

“You complain about the strangest things.” 

 

“I’m not complaining. Just wondering.”

 

“Who knows,” Andrew said vaguely and Neil let it go. 

 

He didn’t fall asleep, but Neil wasn’t awake either after a few minutes. It was strangely comfortable driving through the night like this, no destiny in mind, Andrew’s hand gripping his. Every time the goalkeeper needed to shift gears Neil’s mind came back to the present, before slipping down again, his mind dreaming up curious scenes with Andrew and his imaginary Andrew. _Two of them_ … But then his brain came up with some kind of nonsensical explanation, calling them twins, since yeah, there were Minyard twins out there. He didn’t mind at all. 

 

 

Andrew glanced sideways at Neil next to him. The man looked awful. Still gorgeous, but in an awful way. That panic attack must have wiped him out completely; he hadn’t moved in the last twenty minutes, and his head had lolled to the side again. Andrew felt a little pleased that Neil had broken another rule. How many were left, he wondered. 

 

This guy was a piece of work –Allison had gotten that right. He still tried to find a convincing explanation for all of it, but Andrew didn’t like to fool himself. The problem was that he had gotten attached to this man and now he had to suffer the consequences. _Where did he find you_ , he wondered. None of it made sense right now. He was sure this man was messing with him, but someone was after him, and he could take an educated guess who that might be. He didn’t like it one bit. _What does he have on you?_

 

Andrew’s mind came back to the question that bugged him the most: _Why me?_ All these years he had escaped any kind of unwanted attention while the others had not been so lucky. _Why now?_ It made no sense. _Maybe it’s not me after all._ That thought stung the most. Him being the means to an end. _Nice… yeah, not going to happen_. Better men had tried. Andrew liked to think that he had learned patience over the years, but he had to admit that this was just stalling on his part and time was running out for them. 

 

He gave the man next to him another side-glance. Neil would not be pleased if he knew how completely he had let his guard down right now. Oh no, Neil would be pissed, at himself and at Andrew for talking him into it. He thought about slowly letting go of Neil’s hand, so the guy could sleep a little longer. He wanted him rested for what was coming. There was no fun in it if the man was half-dead on his feet. Neil was a runner, he had told him that. Well, it would be interesting to see if he could catch a rabbit with bare hands. _Get better, little rabbit_ … 

 

Andrew clicked his tongue in annoyance as some asshole saw his car in the rearview mirror and decided to thwart him at the last minute. The goalkeeper slammed his foot on the break, startling Neil awake with a terrified gasp, his hand clutching at the seatbelt that was pressing uncomfortably into his chest. Neil stared wide-eyed between the car in front and the man next to him, trying to figure out what was going on. 

 

“Yeah…,” Andrew agreed a bit lamely when he seemed to figure it out and settled back into his seat. They passed the guy who couldn’t keep his jealousy in check, and Andrew felt like meeting him face-to-face right now. Giving him the finger was not an option with the mirrored windows. 

 

Neil looked around to figure out where they were. Pretty much in the middle of nowhere right now. Andrew had taken his car for a few drives over the years. It was pretty much his replacement for the trips to Columbia. He usually did this alone, only Kevin had kept him company once, but his friend talked too much for these drives. Kevin was also a messy sleeper, slack-jawed, drooling all over himself, mumbling… He was even worse when he was drunk, which was another good reason to keep him sober. Maybe he would have to spend some more time with Kevin in the near future, to keep an eye on him. Maybe.

 

Next to him, Neil rubbed his eyes and tried to keep them open, catching a look at a sign as they drove past. It seemed to ease his mind a bit. 

 

“Still not going to kidnap you.” 

 

“Hm? I was just wondering how far we made it.” He shivered hard enough that he couldn’t hide it by moving around in his seat. 

 

“ _We_ didn’t make it far. _You_ were out for maybe twenty minutes.” He reached over and put the back of his hand against Neil’s forehead. “But maybe it’s time I turn around.” 

 

“Do we have to?” Neil asked miserably. 

 

“You better sleep that fever off.” 

 

“I’m not getting much sleep these days,” the dark haired man sighed and looked out of the window again. 

 

“Why, pray tell?” He could guess after all. 

 

“I don’t know,” Neil mumbled, elbow resting against the door, chin in hand. 

 

“Creative lies, I said. You are not even trying anymore.” The young man glared sideways at him. “You owe me an answer.” 

 

“I don’t. I forfeit all further questions. Game over.” Andrew’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptible at that. Neil had made the wrong move, even if he didn’t know it just yet. He drove them back into the city. His passenger wasn’t happy about it, but that was alright. They spent the remaining drive in silence. 

 

As he stopped in front of the young man’s apartment Andrew turned around and faced him. 

 

“Stop seeing other people.”

 

“No. No deal. We talked about this.” Yeah, they had, but things changed. Neil had changed, and it was becoming more and more obvious. Something was going on with him and Andrew couldn’t ignore it any longer. Someone was messing with his– His what, exactly? He didn't know for sure anymore, but in his mind Neil was definitely _his_ something. This was his last chance. It was also a test.

 

“I’ll let you meet Kevin.” That got him the reaction he was looking for. Some might have missed it, but Andrew had always been an excellent observer, and he always noticed the small but sudden pauses this name would cause. He didn't quite get it yet though. He understood the fanboy part alright. Neil was just like Kevin, another Exy junky, and Kevin was one of his idols. But there was something else to it, something dark, something that wouldn't fit in. A jagged piece in the puzzle that was Neil –and he couldn't place it –didn’t want to place it, because that option was far worse. 

 

“On the court,” he added. There was a look in Neil’s eyes he had never seen before. Andrew wasn’t sure if he had _ever_ seen this version of Neil before. He got the sudden sense of danger, of violence. This went way beyond Neil’s obsession with Exy. It took only a moment for the man to wipe that expression off his face. It had not been fast enough. This wasn’t good. “You want that?”

 

Neil narrowed his eyes. He seemed conflicted. What was going on behind those blue eyes? 

 

“No,” he lied. How much did that cost him, Andrew wondered. 

 

“I told you, your blanket has too many holes.” 

 

“You don’t have to share it with me.” And just like that, Neil made the decision for him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't kill me!
> 
> I swear I'm busy with the sequel and other side projects! my mind is such a messy place, it's unbelievable... come visit, but you better find the map and the compass first! oh, and the master sword to fend of the demons... plenty of those around here... :3


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "betrayal you say? betrayal has always two sides to it, two players - the one that got too close, has offered too much, and the one that wanted out..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nothing to say today

The next time they met was at Andrew’s place again. It had taken Neil a week to get over his illness, including all the nasty phases like coughing up phlegm for example. He had not wanted Andrew around for that. He felt much better now and they had gone back to their weekly appointments. 

 

The first thing Andrew did was hand Neil the money he owed him for their last session. The taller man looked at him questioningly. 

 

“You could have just given it to me at the end.” Neil put it in his pocket. 

 

“Maybe. I don’t like owing people something.” Andrew crossed his arms in front of his chest. _I don’t owe you anything_ , he told himself yet again. He had imagined this meeting during the last week over and over again, had gone through all the possibilities his mind could conjure up. It still tasted bitter, an imaginary aftertaste of his own thoughts, the fake sensory impressions he associated with betrayal and potential danger. He had grown accustomed to this taste over the years. _This can’t go on._ It had taken him all week to draw the final line. He hadn’t called, hadn’t seen the man, hadn’t even texted him until Neil had wanted to know about tonights appointment last night. 

 

“Technically, you didn’t. I mean, you took care of my meds and bought me dinner twice. And we went for that drive.” Neil shrugged. Andrew couldn’t help but see the man acting his role with every movement, every breath he took now. He didn’t know why. Neil certainly hadn’t caught onto the change between them yet. Or maybe he had and was trying to escape the inevitable. 

 

“How much do you think I spent on you? Don’ be ridiculous. Besides, you just spent a whole week at home. Don’t lie to me about money. We both know you need it.” Money, Andrew thought, was always an incentive –but maybe not the whole motivator in this case. He was thinking of men who dealt in threats and terror more than in trust and hard currency. 

 

“Do we now?” Neil averted his gaze. He didn’t like the topic, Andrew noticed. It was true, he needed the money, Andrew had at least found out that much. Neil just didn’t like admitting it, least of all in front of the goalkeeper. “It’s fine,” the young man said. Time to change the subject. 

 

“We also needed a clean slate for this,” the goalkeeper added. Neil didn’t quite follow yet. _Tabula rasa, Neil_ , Andrew thought. He still called him Neil in his thoughts. He had done so after the strange phone call the man had given him. Another lie, he knew now, but somehow it had stuck. 

 

“For?” Neil was curious. Maybe he thought Andrew had something new in mind for tonight –and he did, just not the way Neil imagined it. He moved across the room, leaned against the bar, facing his duplicitous hooker, but keeping his distance. Well, technically Neil _was_ a hooker. That part was true. The other clients were real. He had checked. He had seen some very convincing footage. But something wasn’t right with the man. He should have noticed it sooner, wondered why he hadn’t. Because he had not been looking for anything wrong? Because he thought the whole matter had been initiated by and about him. Because he had other things on his mind lately and had let his guard down. Maybe someone else had noticed though.

 

Clever, using this guy like this. Oh, he was good. The way Neil looked at him right now, expectantly, eager to please. How much had been fake between them? Andrew truly couldn’t say anymore. It was his fault, he knew. He had slipped up, had looked away. _You can have this_ , he had told himself because he had thought he had worked hard for it, every single step, had earned it somehow. Well, nice thought. He grinned a little. Being angry with himself made the whole thing even more distasteful to him. _‘Game over’_ he heard Neil say again, and he couldn’t agree more. _Get it over with_. 

 

Neil was still waiting, standing in his living room, relaxed posture, expression open –trusting– Andrew had come to call it. It had never sat right with him. He shouldn’t be trusted so easily as Neil seemed to do it. It was part of the reason why he had kept coming back for more, he knew. He remembered now what the young man had said to him in anger: ‘Do I really need to tell you that I’ve had worse?’ His scars were proof enough of that, they both knew. 

 

The real question was, who had given them to him. Somehow Andrew had imagined abusive parents –maybe an echo of his own wonderful childhood, though his had been a different blend of fucked-up. Parental figures seldom got away guilt free in his imagination. Now he wondered if there wasn’t a little more to that story than another trailer-park-trash-cliché story, an alcoholic father, a runaway boy fighting for his own survival on the streets of some city, getting caught up in some milieu of organized crime. Maybe Neil had indeed met part of the mafia, one family in particular. 

 

Part of him wanted to make excuses for the man. Part of him wanted to call him just another victim, a tool, a weapon, but not the one wielding it. Part of him wanted to hate the guy, simple as that. Thinking of Kevin helped him listening to that part. Maybe his friend had been a little premature when he had told Andrew that his part of their promise had been fulfilled after all. He would make sure that he would never break that promise, no matter what Kevin said. 

 

The silence stretched on between them. Neil was waiting patiently. They hadn’t touched, hadn’t kissed. Maybe he thought they were taking it slow today. He was wrong. He wouldn’t have a chance to see what was coming for him. 

 

“You must have excellent teeth,” Andrew said suddenly. 

 

 

“Exceptional,” Neil agreed, not knowing what the blonde was getting at. Something wasn’t quite right with Andrew tonight. It wasn’t nervousness; Neil would have noticed that immediately. The Exy star was keeping his distance from him. What then? It didn’t seem like a drug issue either. Neil was beginning to feel a little uneasy all of the sudden. Andrew was looking at him as if he needed to figure something out about him. This was not something Neil wanted to encourage. He was sincerely fine exploring all of Andrew’s depths, his darker shades he kept hidden, all of his fantasies. He wanted to know these, wanted to know who the man truly was. That was dangerous, and he had admitted to himself that he would make that mistake. He wanted to know if he could replace _his_ Andrew Minyard with the real one entirely, if he could give up his fantasy. 

 

They would never end up in something like a relationship between them, since Neil would never be able to lay his cards on the table, but maybe Andrew didn’t want that anyway. The thought about Andrew paying for his company, his confidence, his trust –all that held a strange and intimate appeal to Neil. Still a client, but a special one. One he would hate to give up one day, one he would miss. A real person in his life, not just a fleeting shadow. During their week apart he had thought about this over and over. But today Andrew seemed different, and Neil couldn’t figure out why. 

 

“Couldn’t even find your last dentist appointment,” Andrew said and Neil felt his blood running cold. _Stop!_ “No records, nothing,” the man went on evenly, making a dismissive gesture with his hand. “I’ll ask you again: Who are you running from?” 

 

Andrew had done a background check on him. _No. No no no no no…_ _This can’t be happening…_ The Exy player stared at him coldly. _Motherfucker_ … _Why?_ Neil clenched his fists, squared his shoulders. He was suddenly very aware of the distance of Andrew’s apartment door behind himself, added the three steps he stood apart from the goalkeeper right now.

 

“Why are you doing this?” There was real desperation in his voice, he didn’t need to fake it, didn’t want to hide it. He felt hurt. He felt his anger rising. Why did Andrew have to ruin everything? Why now? He had let his guard down around this man –knowingly– only to have his illusions shatter like a Price Rupert’s Drop. The goalkeeper reached to the side and picked up a folder. Everything he had found out about him, no doubt. It reminded Neil of a folder he had kept over years. 

 

“Want to read it?” The grin on Andrew’s face looked grotesquely sinister and out of place. Neil glared back at him. He couldn’t read the shorter man at all right now. He wasn’t sure if Andrew was actually enjoying this, or if the man was angry. Both were possible. For the first time Andrew felt like a real threat. 

 

“No. I think we’re done here.” The urge to run was overwhelming. His heart was pounding in his chest. Neil felt betrayed, but more than that he was worried. He tried to act indifferent, tried to hide behind a cold facade, but it was already cracking. He needed to get out of here. He turned around. 

 

“Back in college, our coach took me and Kevin along to recruit a new striker at Millport named Neil Josten. Apparently, his coach had told him about us being there –maybe to motivate the poor bastard, since his team was losing. All he had managed though was to scare the guy off, ‘cause our potential new striker vanished during the last break into thin air and never showed up again. Needless to say, we left empty-handed and one striker short for the next season. –Well, I don’t have to remind a fanboy like you how that turned out. Neil had frozen in his place.

 

Andrew threw the folder back onto the bar and looked at him, reaching for his cigarettes instead and lit one. “Took me a while,” he admitted and blew smoke up to the ceiling, frowning a little. “You see…” He took another deep inhale. “I don’t forget.” His gaze was lazy but it felt like it burned a hole into Neil. “I don’t care if it’s my turn, I don’t care if you want to play, you’re going to answer me now. Why did you run back then? And why are you back _now_?” 

 

Neil had looked over his shoulder during Andrew’s speech, but now he needed to get out of here, fast. Andrew saw it coming, moved first and beat Neil to the door. He caught him in the hallway, took him off his feet and twisted Neil’s arm behind his back, threatening to dislocate his shoulder. He grinned down on him and Neil cursed, felt Andrew’s weight on his back. 

 

“The man named Neil Josten doesn't exist. We tried to recruit a ghost back then. Who the fuck are you?” Andrew said in a voice cold as ice, his grin never wavering. The cigarette fell from his fingers and in its stead appeared a knife, pulled out from under one of those black armbands. “Did Riko send you?” he hissed. _Moriyama?_ The name brought a stab of cold fear and unbidden memories with it. Three boys, Evermore, a dull axe… a dead man… his father. Neil began to struggle, but Andrew was having none of it. The knife was not just for show. It was pressed against his throat, and Neil had to pull his head back not to get cut. 

 

“No,” Neil snarled. Had this guy really been carrying knives while he had been with him? What the hell? Had he really been seeing a sociopath all these past weeks? How could he have missed that? The knife lay cold against the skin of his throat, and he could feel the edge starting to cut him like a careless stroke of a razor. What an idiot he had been. After all those years of running and hiding… 

 

Neil forced a breath in through his mouth and out through his nose. It didn’t help much, he was starting to shake. He dug deeper, searched for his rage. It was there. It never left him. If he had ever needed it, now was the time. There was nothing left for him; only panic and anger. He swallowed, tried to glare at Andrew over his shoulder, tried to focus his hatred on the Exy star. _You betrayed me! I trusted you! I thought I could._ Wrong. He had been wrong, about Andrew, about thinking it was worth the risk, about believing he deserved a piece of normality –about everything. Time to pay the price. He needed Nathaniel back in his life.

 

“For someone who’s been raped, you sure as hell understand precious little about the meaning of the word _‘no’_.” He managed to keep his voice from shaking, barely. Neil knew fear intimately and this was way too close to the images he kept buried deep down in his memory. Andrew’s eyes narrowed. That had hit –good. He needed to fight back. If Andrew thought a little knife was all it took to keep him down, he was mistaken. His touch felt alien to Neil. There was a stranger on top of him, holding him down, threatening him. This was the man who had attacked another player after a game and shattered his kneecap, this was the man who had singlehandedly taken down three men and nearly killed them behind Eden’s Twilight, the man who had taken medication for years. Seemed like he had woken the beast. _I might hurt you._ What a joke. _Might_ … How could he have been so stupid? 

 

“What do you want from Kevin?” Andrew’s grip got tighter, the knife’s edge started to cut. Neil felt the first trickle of blood running down his throat. _You won’t kill me_ , he thought. Nathaniel was taking over more and more of him now and he let him –gladly for once. 

 

“You got it backwards,” he hissed, shaking in Andrew’s grip, but more from exertion than fear now. “Kevin knows me and I can’t let him find me.” He saw the realization in Andrew’s face, felt him hesitate. Funny how he could see the moment another puzzle piece fell into place in that pale face, but Andrew’s emotions often seemed to be written in a foreign language. “Now get _off_ me!” He took the first chance he got. As soon as he felt Andrew pulling the knife back, Neil tried to buck him off, tried to get onto his feet again. If Andrew hadn’t let go of his arm then, he’d have dislocated his own shoulder. He bolted, was out the door and down the hallway in seconds, took the emergency exit and ran. No time to wait for the elevator. 

 

 

 

Alone in his tiny apartment behind his locked door, Neil felt the rage taking over completely. The black Audi, the men following him, his panic attack, his renewed paranoia… all Andrew’s doing. How long had the man been playing with him like that? Why? What kind of game was he playing? All those questions, his insistence of the truth, him bringing Kevin up… No, no, it made no sense. He had mentioned Riko, and the only Riko worth mentioning was the youngest Moriyama and he was in Japan. His mind recoiled every time he ventured close to that minefield. Moriyama… the mob, his father… still looking for him after all those years. The memory of his dead mother was unavoidable at that moment. _No_ , he told himself, _don’t go there right now_. 

 

It was the middle of the night, but there would be no sleep for him. He could barely keep himself from grabbing his old duffle-bag and stuffing it with his most important belongings right now. He forced himself to stay in here and think it over. Maybe he’d have to vanish again –no, that was already a certainty. Staying was out of the question. But he had to be careful, had to think, had to wipe away all his traces. 

 

Minyard knew where he lived –but he had known that for a while now, and the fact that none of his father’s men had shown up here until now told him that he had got some time left. Andrew Minyard was still a wildcard in this game. Maybe he was another player, Neil wasn’t sure of that yet. The man was dangerous, that was certain. _If he isn’t one of the Moriyama’s… not one of my father’s_ –and he wasn’t, Neil thought he had gotten that right at least, _then who is he?_

 

Kevin Day was another piece on the board and there laid the real problem. Kevin Day was indisputably tied to the Moriyama family. He still wore the number two tattooed on his face for heaven’s sake. Riko’s second. But he must have had some kind of falling out with the Japanese mobster family when he had left the Ravens and joined the Foxes years ago. And Minyard had been Day’s shadow for years. The more he thought about it, the stupider he felt for getting close to the goalkeeper in the first place. He wanted to hate the man, needed to, so his mind wouldn’t search for excuses and possibilities, for misunderstandings… 

 

_‘The man named Neil Josten doesn’t exist.’_ Yeah, no kidding, asshole. But he could have if you hadn’t ruined it all –twice! He hadn’t known back then that Kevin Day and Andrew Minyard had personally shown up to watch his game back then. All he had heard had been _Foxes_ and that had been enough. He had skipped town that very same night back then. He had kept the papers though. He had gotten attached to Josten, and had wanted to bury Wesninski so deep that no one would ever be able to dig that bastard up again. 

 

Part of him –a huge part, he had to admit– had always regretted running away during that game. The ‘what ifs’ had never left him alone again up to this day. _Payback maybe?_ The thought came unbidden. He didn’t want to think of it like that. He hadn’t blamed Andrew Minyard for his pathetic excuse of a life. But it had felt like fate when the black car had pulled up next to him that night. No, he had not planned to harm Andrew Minyard –he _had_ though, wanted to stay close to him this time, to avoid new regrets and ‘what ifs’. But fate hadn’t been smiling down on him, he realized now. Not at all. 

 

_‘Why did you run back then? And why are you back_ now _?’_ Andrew’s words replayed over and over in his head. Back at the goalkeeper’s apartment he had not been able to think clearly. Well, who could blame him, really? A background check, a knife to the throat… _I ran because you would have exposed me to my father. I’ve already told you too much. All you need to do is ask Kevin now. That was a dumb move, idiot._ He sighed. _I’m not back at all._ You _came to me, or so I thought. I’m not so sure anymore._

 

It couldn’t all just be a huge fucking coincidence. What were the odds? Neil paced his apartment for the rest of the night, lights turned off, burning through his coffee reserves at an alarming pace. By the time the sun came up he was jittery, but the light creeping through his window was comforting at least. He had made it through another night. He was still here. He hadn’t run –yet. He would escape again. 

 

And then he heard the car. Instantly he was at his window. “You gotta be kidding,” Neil growled, furiously. The black Maserati pulled over on the other side of the road. It was enough. He had enough. He could just imagine it; this crazy sociopath sitting in his car, waiting for him to leave, like a perfect little stalker… –Or maybe he would come up here. _This is what you get for breaking the rules_ , he told himself.

 

Neil went to the door, grabbed his keys, pulled on his boots and snatched the racquet up that was leaning against the wall. He took the stairs down, jumping over the last few of each flight and to hell with the sleeping neighbors. He swung the front door open and crossed the street. If Andrew saw him coming, he had no time to stop him. Neil raised the racquet and smashed the driver seat window in. A million little pieces showered down around his feet and covered Andrew still sitting inside. 

 

“Stay away from me! Or the next time, it will be you I break!” Racquet against knife, the odds were clearly in his favor this time. He pulled the money he still carried with him out of his pocket and threw it through the broken window. Andrew actually managed to look perplexed, if anything. Disturbingly calm, though. It made the hairs on Neil’s neck rise. “Now fuck off,” he hissed and turned to leave. 

 

He heard Andrew getting out of the car, leaving the door open, but it took him by surprise just how fast the goalkeeper got to him, grabbed the racquet with both hands as Neil turned, and shoved him backwards against the wall, racquet pressed against his chest painfully. Andrew’s lips crushed against his, front teeth colliding, and if he hadn't pulled back fast enough, Neil would have bitten him. Instead, Andrew shoved some of the money back into Neil’s pocket, gave him another push for good measure that would leave bruises and turned around to get back into the car. Neil was fuming. He wiped his mouth and spat another insult at the man, but the Maserati’s engine drowned his voice out and Andrew, ignoring him, vanished down the road. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .  
> .  
> .  
> .
> 
>  
> 
> The Road Ahead:  
>  _A knife to the throat, a racquet to the head, Andrew understood this game...“Give me one good reason not to bash your brains out,”.... “I want the truth.”... “Why me? For fucks sake!”..."I could have made him Court.”_


	15. 15.1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stripped bare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> because I'm a REAL b****, this chapter will be split into two parts. 'cause.... what else did you expect of me? El... Oh, El... 
> 
> not to worry though... you've almost made it through. *raises coffee mug* here is to you! This chapter is a little heavier on Andrew's side, including the requested insight into his last encounter with Neil in front of the apartment building. Enjoy the ride. 
> 
> The lyrics are from one of my favorite songs. Ella Walker's voice is simply beautiful! Go check her out ;)

> I’ve spent too long lying,  
> And now I’m trying to hurt you.  
> But you’ve seen me bare,  
> You’ve seen me covered up  
> Maybe I’m not scared  
> What you’re thinking of  
> You’ve seen me here  
> And held me miles away,  
> Underneath my skin  
> Is all you’ll see today.
> 
> **Wildes - _Bare_**

 

* * *

 

15.1

 

 

He was in every sense undeniably, irrevocably and thoroughly fucked. Andrew took a moment to admit the fact to himself, inhaling it with the smoke of yet another cigarette before watching it drift lazily towards the ceiling. He sat on his sofa, head and upper arms resting on the back, legs comfortably spread, thoughts sharp but skipping through all his options. It was way past midnight. Neil left hours ago, had escaped, had run away –from him, again. He could have kept him here, of course, but he had decided to let him run. It had been a gut decision, and so far it seemed the right choice. Neil wasn’t out of his reach and he had things to consider, new information to process and moves to plan. 

 

‘ _You got it backwards… Kevin knows me… I can’t let him find me._ ’ Everything about that had screamed truth at him at that moment. The moment he had mentioned Riko Moriyama he had seen the recognition on Neil’s face, the fear, so much like the way the name made Kevin flinch. Not his, then, not Riko’s. He had been wrong. _Who are you? Where have you been? How are you involved? What do you want from me?_ Questions with no answers. So intriguing. 

 

He could ask Kevin. Simple as that. Dig up a past Neil wanted to bury. The man obviously hadn’t dug deep enough, was still trying to throw more dirt on top. You could see it under his fingernails if you looked closely enough. Maybe he would have to ask Kevin. Andrew didn’t particularly want to though. This was _his_ puzzle. Now that he was reasonably sure that Neil was no threat to Kevin he could take his time with the whole matter and take it apart piece by piece. 

 

These were the facts: Neil’s name wasn’t Neil Josten. He was the same young man they had wanted to meet back in Millport; an Exy player who had gotten the attention of none other than Kevin Day with his undeniable ability to spot raw talent from a mile away. Neil was working as a prostitute and had given up his Exy career. Someone was searching for him. 

 

Things that were almost certain at this point: Neil’s obsession with Exy was real, probably to the same degree as Kevin’s. Kevin had known Neil Josten before they had flown out to Millport but hadn’t recognized the young man. Which made it likely that they had met as kids –which meant Evermore, which would explain why Riko Moriyama had left an impression. 

 

So… a raven fledgling that had fled the nest? How likely was that? The Moriyamas guarded their secrets well; he would need insider information to confirm that idea –Kevin, maybe Moreau. 

 

Andrew accepted it as his working theory for the time being. But that only took care of Neil’s past. He could entertain that thought and bring it to the present: Neil had fled the raven’s nest, but had continued to play Exy during school until they had spotted him at Millport High. He ran away again, from Kevin that time, and quit Exy. For whatever reason, he ended up as a prostitute and was pursuing that trade for over a year now in this city. Roland had introduced Neil to him because they had briefly talked about him looking for a suitable partner to confront his issues with. But that was such a huge fucking coincidence that Andrew couldn’t really wrap his mind around it. 

 

And there was another problem, maybe the biggest of all. Somewhere along the way he had developed feelings for Neil. He needed to accept that and add it to his fact list. Reading the file he had gotten from Allison, noticing the discrepancies in Neil’s past, the lack of information, the secrets, his connection to Millport, and his false assumption that Riko had his hands in the whole matter to get back at Kevin had clouded his judgment. He had felt betrayed, had feared being the instrument of his friend’s downfall, the friend whom he promised to protect. It had turned his feelings for Neil into something twisted and ugly, had made him lash out and attack the man. And now, it turned out, at least part of it had been a _misunderstanding_. Oh, how he hated that word but here it was. A real, fucking undeniable _misunderstanding_. 

 

_Say it, Minyard_ , he told himself. _You’ve made a mistake. You’ve managed to push away the only guy who got remotely close to you in years._

 

And why? Because he wouldn’t accept the fact that he _could_ find someone to get close to. That _maybe_ he wasn’t too damaged after all. Neil had been willing; there was no denying it. He wasn’t blind. He had wanted to see it as part of an act though, a scheme. But maybe it wasn’t. And truth be told he didn’t fool himself. He didn’t think of it as true love. But it had been something –on both sides. Exy fanboyism or simple physical attraction –or not? What about the whole asexual thing? Maybe another lie…– But there had been something on Neil’s side. Phone calls, texting, an unexpected visit in the middle of the night… Neil had been reaching out to him. _It could have been a trap_. Could have. Probability: 40:60 –not good enough. He needed to know. Fucking Neil Josten or whatever his name really was and his obnoxious habit of lying. How could he be interested in a pathological liar of all people? 

 

And now he had ruined it. How beautiful it had been though… Revealing Neil’s true colors, his rage, his violent streak, his simmering temper that could conflagrate in seconds… it had been captivating. Very much like Kevin, there was an entirely different man hidden below a layer of choking fear, and Andrew wanted to see everything part of him. _Worth it_ , he decided, pushing Neil had been worth it. To see _that_ , he could not bring himself to regret it. He couldn’t let him go. Maybe he would not be able to repair the damage that had been done between them, but Andrew needed to see Neil again at least one more time. 

 

Outside the window of his living room the sky shifted colors. The city was about to wake. Time to go. 

 

 

The streets were pleasantly empty this early. The black car took him once more into that godforsaken neighborhood Neil had chosen to live in. He parked the car across the street and leaned back in his seat. This wouldn’t go down easy; there was no way it would. He needed to decide how to play this. He could admit that he had been wrong –at least partially. Apologies were not his thing. Or he could deflect the blame and turn it back on Neil and make him swallow the guilt. That one would be easier, he thought, but it was also the cowardly way out. 

 

While he was still thinking about it Andrew saw a shadow crossing the street, a fast one. He turned his head and realized it was Neil, but it was already too late. The man raised his racquet and smashed in the window between them. The pieces scattered, raining down on him inside the car, on to the street around Neil’s feet. 

 

“Stay away from me! Or the next time, it will be you I break!” Oh, he was furious and it looked good on him. Neil reached into his pocket and threw the money Andrew had given him back into the car. How amusing. Neil might not know it, but it was the fact that it always came down to money that had reminded Andrew that he was dealing with a hooker when he was with Neil. It hadn’t been a gentle reminder; it had been a warning sign. ‘Yours, as long as you pay for it’ and ‘someone else’s every other night’. He had accepted it most of the time. There had been moments when he had pushed against those boundaries, the times when he had asked Neil to stop seeing other clients. His refusal had always been as much relief as a sore spot. He had chosen a hooker because he couldn’t imagine having a normal relationship. He had asked his hooker to step outside of that role because he wanted more anyway. Not the whole thing, he still would have been paying for Neil after all, but something more. And Neil had hated every single moment he had been reminded of their standings. Hilarious. 

 

“Now fuck off!” He turned around, thinking that his little outrage had scared his pursuer enough. Why he would think that was beyond Andrew. Neil hadn’t even touched him, hadn’t even used that racquet –interesting choice of a weapon really– to hurt him, after he had drawn a knife during their last encounter. Disappointing. Truth be told, he had expected a little more from the man. After all, they were past drawing first blood by now. The rules had changed. But still, he liked that wild fury on Neil’s face. _Don’t tell me you are holding back for my sake_ , he scoffed inwardly. _Oh, Neil. Don’t make that mistake._ Maybe the guy needed a reminder of whom he was playing with. 

 

Andrew got out of his car, left the door open and reached Neil before the man could vanish back inside. All the guy managed was to turn around and face him, racquet raised to defend himself, eyes widening, ready to fight. _Better_. Dammit, he would regret losing this one. It would cost him. Andrew grabbed the racquet with both hands and shoved Neil back against the wall, knocked the wind out of him and used his chance to kiss him, hard. He knew better than to expect Neil’s lips yielding to his right now. This was a little too close to crossing the line. Forcing himself onto someone in this way wasn’t his thing. It left a sour taste in his mouth that had nothing to do with the man in front of him. It stung. The heat died, the thrill vanished and Andrew swallowed anger –directed at himself most of all. Neil was beyond furious by now, ready to fight back, and he would have gladly obliged him in any other situation but that ill-advised kiss had hit home. _What are you doing?_

 

Realization hit hard and Andrew shut his excitement down, closed the door on it and threw the key away. _I’m not going to be like them._ He shoved Neil again, harder than he had intended to, saw the pain register on that face he liked to watch more closely than any other. He let go and turned around, took three long steps back to his car, got in, started the engine, and stepped onto the gas until the Maserati roared angrily and sped down the alley. 

 

 

 

 

The day after the whole team flew out to Las Vegas for another big event. The timing was less than ideal, but he had no way of getting out of it this time. One night gambling and celebrating at the casino and then they’d catch the next flight back home the following evening. He hated flying. It wasn’t just his fear of heights; it was the buzzing airports, the never-ending standing in line, the endless security checks. Leaving his knives behind always felt like a mistake. Having people in such close proximity for the better part of the day, maybe even having them patting him down because something –he couldn’t tell what, he had made sure not to carry anything made of metal on his body– had set the scanners off and his eye had twitched in annoyance. The security guy had him marked the moment it had happened. And then rinse and repeat on the way back. A nightmare. 

 

His team had been there, of course, loud and full of energy, excited for the trip. ‘Vegas Baby!’ they had hooted more than once on their way to the airport. Andrew didn’t care about Vegas. Kevin and Allison took turns watching him, pretending otherwise and then pretending not to notice that he had caught on to their little ploy. All in all it had been two needlessly exhausting days. His mind had been preoccupied but there was a good chance no one had noticed. His team was used to his silent treatment, even more so when they were flying somewhere. Kevin might have noticed but hadn’t commented on it. He had been busy with the press most of all. 

 

 

His duffle bag made it onto his bed, thrown with more force than strictly necessary, a meager outlet for his growing frustration. His apartment felt cold somehow, even though the temperature was regulated constantly. Andrew undressed on his way into the bathroom, his clothes leaving a trail in his wake, and took a shower. He had plans tonight. They couldn’t wait any longer. Neil had his respite and it was about time to remind him that the hunt was coming to an end. Andrew had used the last two days to evaluate the situation again and again. His conclusion: he couldn’t just let the man go. He wanted to solve this puzzle and catch the rabbit. Letting Neil simply vanish again was out of the question. 

 

The water was too hot but he ignored it. At least it dealt with the unpleasant feeling of cold and lingering exhaustion in his limbs. Andrew imagined how Neil had always taken showers before he went out to meet with someone, remembered the smell of the man’s body wash and shampoo, the taste of his clean skin, the feeling of his soft yet unruly hair. 

 

_‘It’s just daydreaming. I’m sure you do it too.’_ Of course he did. Having a close to perfect memory had its advantages and this was one of them. 

 

‘ _You have to promise me to delete the file afterwards.’_ Sure thing. He had committed it to memory the moment he saw it. Agreeing to Neil’s terms had been easy. His internal replay count was getting worryingly high. 

 

_‘What are you really thinking of?’ ‘You.’_ Followed by a gasp as Neil had come undone, looking straight into the camera, at him. Andrew’s breath hitched. He leaned his forearm against the cool tiles, supporting his head as he shifted his weight forward, letting the water soak his hair and hit his shoulders. 

 

_‘Andrew, I’m so close.’_ His moan echoed inside the bathroom with no one but him to hear it. _‘Andrew? Andrew. Andrew! Andrew.’_ He let the shiver run down through his body, let the feeling of his knees going weak pass over him and let it all be washed away by the hot spray of the shower, before he turned around and leaned back against the wall, eyes closed. 

 

 

 

 

His plans had gone astray when he had driven by Neil’s apartment twice that night. The place had been dark, leading to the conclusion that Neil was out, possibly with another client. Being not too worried about it, Andrew had decided to kill some time at Eden’s. Maybe asking Roland a few questions would be a good idea. But their conversation took a different turn as Roland looked at him knowingly from behind the bar and greeted him with one of his specials and a disappointed: “I had really hoped it would work out between you two.” There had been no doubt whatsoever who they were talking about, and Andrew switched gears and leaned lazily against the bar. 

 

“Oh?” He feigned disinterest. 

 

“Well, yeah, why wouldn’t I? You think I’d begrudge you any kind of pleasure? You wound me, Andrew.” Andrew just waved him off, not in the mood for theatrics at the moment. 

 

“He’s been here, then?” Facts, that’s what he’d come for. 

 

“Came to say goodbye,” Roland nodded. “You know, I really liked that kid. He was a good customer too.” 

 

“I’m sure,” Andrew agreed. Gone, Neil was gone. “Did he tell you where he went?” 

 

“No. Just told me it was his last night in town and he wouldn’t spend it at home. Thought you might know the details.” 

 

“‘fraid not,” he mumbled into his drink and took a sip. Roland looked disappointed again. 

 

“Sorry to hear that,” the bartender told him, and Andrew had the feeling he meant the whole situation, not just Neil’s sudden goodbye. The older man mixed them two shooters and placed them onto the polished bar between them. “On the house. To the kid, wherever he might be.” The Exy player took one and huffed in wry humor. It was the first of many shots that night and definitely not his last spiked drink either. 

 

Good thing he had left the Maserati at home before he came to Eden’s. Andrew could barely remember talking to the cabby and giving him his address, paying him (he made sure that had happened and wasn’t just some memory from another night… some drugs and him didn’t mix well, and he didn’t need more trouble), and finally stumbling into his dark, empty apartment. The sofa was closer than the bed, so that was where he ended up, asking himself when had been the last time he was so intoxicated that he surely would regret it the next morning. _I’m acting like Kevin_ , he thought and found his morbid sense of humor, starting to laugh. Even in his own ears it sounded wrong. _He’s gone. You let him get away._ Neil had managed to hide for years. How likely was it to find him again now? 

 

Morning practice was a physical impossibility and for someone like him that meant something. His coach wasn’t amused of course, but Andrew sounded wrecked enough on the phone to make a sick call believable. Maybe Mathews wouldn’t buy it completely, but he would give him the benefit of the doubt. Kevin wouldn’t. He’d show up sooner or later, making accusations, bringing their supposed-to-be unspoken agreement up, wanting to know why Andrew hadn’t come over instead. He would have to dodge Kevin for a little while. His first step was to turn his phone off. That was an easy task again, now that he knew he couldn’t expect unforeseeable calls and texts from Neil. His next step was his search for some painkillers and downing them with two tall glasses of water. What followed were three more hours of much needed sleep. 

  
He woke up hungover afterwards, still on his sofa, still in his disgusting smelling club outfit, groaning and rolling onto his back, one hand covering his eyes. He felt like shit, there was no other way to describe it, through and through, wrecked to the core. In addition to his physical discomforts came the aftermath of overloaded neurotransmitters, which in his case was a little different from a normal functioning brain. You couldn’t get much lower than his continuous state of apathy, but ‘not much’ was still an unpleasant experience. 

 

It took him most of the day to resemble a normally functioning human being again, even though his brain wasn’t quite up to speed yet. What drove him to get into his car and make the trip across town to Neil’s old apartment again, Andrew couldn’t really say. What induced him to actually get out of his car and break into the young man’s apartment however, was purely his notorious Andrew Minyard curiosity. It seldom knew moral standards or limits. It was like an itch inside his skull that he couldn’t scratch any other way. The need to make sure, to maybe look for clues, to see what was left, couldn’t be ignored any longer. 

 

The lock didn’t even pretend to present much of a challenge, reminding Andrew of the almost bare apartment Neil had called his home. With so little of value inside, why bother? If you had to be ready to run at any given moment and give everything up, why bother? The door opened almost silently. The moment he sat foot into the dark apartment, Andrew knew something was off. The place wasn’t empty. That alone he could have excused. Neil could have run, leaving everything behind except of his most important possessions. It would have made sense. What didn’t though were the boxes that greeted Andrew in the dark. Someone, most likely Neil, had made an effort and packed up all of the young man’s belongings. Granted, that couldn’t have taken long. There were only four of them, neatly stacked against the wall. He paused and took it all in. 

 

Andrew had to admit he hadn't seen the attack from behind that swept the feet from under him, tripping him backwards, coming. He hit the floor back first, and felt the air rushing from his lungs. About to roll to the side to get back onto his feet, a racquet above his head made him pause. _Getting slow, Minyard_ , he mocked himself.

 

“Give me one good reason not to bash your brains out,” Neil growled. There he was, standing behind him, in nothing but his underwear, aiming his Exy racquet at Andrew’s head. The predator was back again, and Andrew felt another shiver running down his spine. Neil’s bare feet had made no sound when snuck up behind him. He probably had heard him tempering with the lock and hid in the dark bathroom with his racquet. Never before had Andrew Minyard been so pleasantly surprised by being attacked from behind. 

 

“I’m not here to fight,” the goalkeeper replied, staying down for now, leaning on one elbow. 

 

“I don’t care. I’m done with you. I should have never agreed to this in the first place.” The man above him was more than a little annoyed by his uninvited guest. 

 

“I want the truth,” Andrew said and slowly sat up, pushing the racquet aside with his shoulder when Neil refused to move it out of the way. He needed to know. It had been all he could think of those last few days. 

 

“Too bad we are not playing anymore.” _Too bad_ , he had to agree. “Now get out,” Neil hissed. 

“How can I put this? How about… –No.” Neil had made the mistake not to withdraw his weapon of choice, leaving the racquet in Andrew’s reach. So he used it, grabbed it and pulled himself back onto his feet with its help when Neil wouldn’t let go. The scuffle that followed only showed how outmatched Neil was in close combat against the Exy star. He threw some punches, some of which Andrew blocked, some of which he simply took and ignored. He hit back only twice, and both hits were more precisely aimed and had enough force behind them to make them count. The first was aimed at Neil’s gut, the second at his face, knocking his head sideways, splitting his lower lip. Everything else was just holds and shoves, making clear who had the upper hand in this fight. Neil was a sore loser though.    
  
When he couldn’t get his racquet back, he aimed a knee at the goalkeeper’s groin, which Andrew saw coming and blocked, but wasn’t amused by. It was a cheap shot. It did, however, give Neil the opportunity he had needed to get free and back onto his feet. He took three steps backwards and swept a hand at his bleeding lower lip, keeping his eyes on the goalkeeper. But where did he think he was going in just his underwear in the middle of the night? 

 

Andrew stayed where he was. The fight had gotten his blood flowing, but there was no euphoria in his system. He was still suffering the aftermath of the drugs, leaving him feeling strangely hollow and dissatisfied inside. It wasn’t a good mix. It was a dangerous combination for him. 

 

“Just wait,” he sighed. He was tired of this. He wouldn’t get another chance though. Too bad he had imagined their next encounter differently and now had only himself to blame. 

 

“Fuck off!” Neil was breathing hard, feeling all the rage Andrew couldn’t find inside himself right now. 

 

“Ask me,” Andrew told him.

 

“Shut up!” 

 

“Ask me anything,” he raised his voice to meet Neil’s. It felt strange. He rarely got loud. He didn’t need to. People took him seriously from his presence alone. 

 

 

 

“I don’t care!” Neil was so furious by now, he didn't know what he was doing. The old rage was boiling in him, taking him over. Andrew clearly underestimated him. It was a dangerous game for both of them, and the goalkeeper kept pushing him, wouldn’t leave him alone.

 

His adrenalin was still high. He had been napping after another sleepless night when he had heard someone stopping in front of his apartment door, followed by the sound of someone messing with his lock. It had taken Neil three seconds to jump off the bed, grab his racquet and hide behind the half open bathroom door in the dark, watching Andrew fucking Minyard breaking into his apartment through the gap between the door and wall. 

 

“Liar! I know you do!” Why did he have to show his emotions now? Why? For fuck’s sake, why couldn't Andrew stay the fuck away from him? What was he doing looking at him like that, as if this meant something? Was he that crazy? Now of all times, after it was already too late. It was not fair. 

 

“Why are you doing this?” Neil raged. Tomorrow morning he would have been gone from this city. It had been a mistake to plan this through this time after all. Pack your things, rent a car, arrive somewhere with more than a duffle bag for once… Yeah, right… Because it had only been Minyard who had found out? _Only?_ Because he had thought he could handle the man? Because somewhere below all this crazy bullshit he still cared for this asshole and couldn’t figure out why. 

 

“Because I want you.” There was anger in Andrew’s voice and something else. Pain? _Want me? I know you want me, you idiot, you’ve been paying for me. Captain obvious…_

 

“Why me? For fucks sake!” Neil kicked one of the boxes, leaving a hole in its side. _Don’t look at me like that._

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Because you are a nightmare I cannot wake up from.” _What a line… Back to the theatrics already_ , Andrew mocked himself. 

 

“What the fuck does that even mean,” Neil asked, incomprehension written all over his face. “Are you serious?” 

 

“I know you don’t get it,” Andrew spat. Because he wouldn’t. How could he? Andrew himself didn't get to terms with it. He _wanted_ this man. There was so precious little in his life he really wanted. It made him so angry, this… _obsession_ with Neil. It went way beyond sex, way beyond his issues. He knew it was already too late for both of them. 

 

“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. Who the fuck knows what’s going through your brain.” Well, that stung. It shouldn’t, but it did. And it must have shown on his face because Neil’s expression shifted, and then he said, “Are you in love with me?” and there couldn't have been more disbelief in his tone if he had tried. 

 

“Yes, I am.” There it was. And saying it made him feel like crap, sitting here on the dusty floor. He hated it. Neil blinked and Andrew waited for him to laugh, to be disgusted, to be creeped out. He knew what he looked like; a crazy stalker who came after his prostitute. Who wouldn't be thrilled by that? 

 

“You can’t be serious.” Still disbelieve. Nothing else. 

 

“I’m not the liar here,” he snapped. This was so fucked up. He knew it. This was a disaster. And the worst part was, _he_ had fucked it up. He had known all along what a stupid idea this was. 

 

The young man frowned down at him. “No, you are not,” he admitted. Neil’s anger was slowly subsiding again, leaving something like cool detachment in its wake. “You can’t blame me for not realizing it. You have a strange way of showing it.” He crossed his arms over his chest. Andrew said nothing. What could say? It was true. “Is that why you keep following me? Did Roland tell you I was leaving?” 

 

“He said you were gone.” That man had caused him so much unexpected trouble recently.

 

“And you had to make sure?” He didn’t answer but Neil nodded. “Something came up. I was going to leave yesterday. I can’t have you following me around, Andrew. It’s dangerous.” 

 

“Who are you running from?” Why wouldn’t he just answer him? It was so annoying. 

 

“Don’t you know?” Confusion again. Neil was so wide open right now, Andrew wondered if he even realized it. 

 

“I wouldn’t have to ask then, would I?” 

 

“You didn’t ask Kevin?” Maybe he should have. It was always better to have all the cards in one’s hands, but it also made for a terribly boring game. 

 

“I’m still not sure he needs to know.” Depending on what they were dealing with here, it could freak Kevin out and that could get ugly. Andrew didn’t particularly feel like playing babysitter for his friend right now. Not more than usual at least. Neil sighed, looked miserable for a moment and leaned back against the wall. He muttered something under his breath Andrew couldn’t quite catch, then raked a hand through his messy hair. 

 

“You say you like me, but you don’t even know me,” he said then, sighing and sounding more exhausted than anything else. Andrew didn’t miss how ‘love’ had turned into ‘like’ all of the sudden. “Same goes for me. I don’t know you at all, and I thought we agreed on that at the beginning. Now, I know things got messy along the way, and yes, part of it was my fault, I won’t deny that. It was. I got carried away. But pulling that surveillance shit on me went too far. I’m not even talking about what happened back at your apartment. That’s just fucked up. This is stalker material and you now it.” 

 

Yes, he did know it, and it didn’t even matter that it hadn’t been him who had sent those men after Neil. He had taken that file as soon as it had been in his reach. Allison would come up with some excuses about celebrities having to watch their backs. It was bullshit. Fact was he didn’t even feel particularly guilty about the whole thing. Not enough to apologize at least. He knew it had been wrong, morally, legally, but his moral standards were pretty much chthonic to begin with. Flexible, one might say giving him too much credit, nonexistent others might say. The truth lay somewhere in-between but clearly in the lower spectrum. 

 

“You like to push my boundaries.” It wasn't a question but Andrew nodded because Neil knew it already. “And you like it when I break my rules for you. You like the advantage it gives you over me.” _Power_ , Neil had wanted to say, Andrew could hear it in his voice, knew exactly what it would sound like. 

 

“Yes,” he admitted flatly. He needed a cigarette. 

 

“Do you know it makes me feel like crap? That it makes me hate myself every time I let you,” Neil muttered. No, he hadn’t known. How could he have? Empathy wasn’t exactly his forte. He had gotten better at guessing other people’s feelings over the years. He still didn't much care for them. “Geez.” Neil raked his fingers through his hair again and then turned his head to look at Andrew. “Have you been raped?” He had known it already, Andrew was sure. 

 

“Yes.” No use denying it, nothing to gain from it. _Open cards, Minyard_.

 

“Fuck,” Neil cursed and Andrew could hear that he had hoped to be wrong about that. “When?” When what? When had been the first time? Or the last? _Bee would be so proud_ , he mocked himself. Spilling everything as if someone had cut him open, as if he was bleeding out. 

 

“I was seven.” He felt raw and strangely numb at the same time, his apathy mixing with old memories and those feelings everyone always told him he was missing. Maybe feelings were overrated after all. Or maybe this was still the drugs’ aftermath. “Then again, when I was twenty.” 

 

“Jesus, Andrew,” Neil cursed. If he coughed up any sign of pity now, he might hit him. Andrew didn't know if he would be able to help himself. _This_ was exactly what he hadn't wanted.

 

“That’s an interesting choice of words,” he said monotonously. He got up, looked at Neil. “Are we done?” He needed to get out of here. It took Neil a moment to find his voice again. 

 

“Yes,” he said, frowning and watching him warily. And Andrew left, without another word. 


	16. 15.2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it. you've made it all the way through! your are now facing the last 30 pages of this story. I'm so glad you stuck around....

_‘Are you in love with me?’ ‘Yes, I am.’_ “Fuck,” Neil grumbled. He had been sitting on his windowsill absentmindedly biting on his thumbnail, going over and over his last meeting with Andrew in his head. Now he stood up, grabbed his wallet and keys, and left the apartment. 

 

He should go, he told himself. He really, _really_ should get all of his things and leave. He would have been gone if the German hadn’t suddenly called him and invited him for a last-minute scene. He’d accepted, but now Neil was facing another problem. He didn’t believe the German would be pleased to let him go. They hadn’t talked about it. He thought about saying something, but couldn’t quite bring himself to do it. Hopefully the man wouldn’t try to find him. The thought of having yet another man on his heels gave Neil’s raw nerves all the wrong impulses. 

 

Why did Andrew have to show up again? Everything was getting so complicated. _Then leave._ Starting over again for the nth time… Neil didn’t really want to. He had never wanted to. He had always been forced to do so. _Nothing’s changed._ “Fuck,” he mumbled again. He didn’t want to go. 

 

Neil walked down the dark alley. It was getting late. He felt the urge to go for a run, but he knew he didn’t have the energy for it. The last days had wiped him out. _Andrew_ had wiped him out. And now the goalkeeper had done it again. _I don’t want this._

 

It wasn’t even like he was happy with his current lifestyle. Working as a hooker was easy money, but that was everything positive he could say about it. He didn’t like it. He didn’t really hate it either. He knew it was nothing he wanted to do forever; but he still hadn’t figured out what he wanted to do. Maybe he would end up in some low profile job, hiding for the rest of his life after all. Hiding. Alone. ‘Don’t get comfortable.’ ‘You could leave again tomorrow.’ Those thoughts had never left him. And now he was facing the same scenario again. He was so tired of this. 

 

And for what? He had given up Exy in order to have a life he hadn’t actually managed to build for himself yet. He had given up his team, his education, and his dreams. Now he was about to give up his shitty studio apartment with the single bed, the old kitchen, and his makeshift furniture. Nothing to be proud of but it was his. _You’ll find a new place. Maybe this time the bathroom faucet won’t leak, and the kitchen will actually be from this decade._ And there he caught himself again. Hadn’t that been exactly his point back then? Hadn’t he chosen his apartment _because_ it would never feel like a real home to him, so he could give it up more easily when he had to run again? 

 

And really, it wasn’t the apartment he was going to miss. It was the taste of what _could_ be his. Someone he had felt something for, who knew where he lived and had visited him when he had needed him, someone who had taken care of him, let alone someone who played his favorite sport for a living. Someone who claimed to be in love with him. Where had it all gone wrong? 

 

Grudgingly, Neil turned his phone back on. He was going to ditch it but had kept it for now, telling himself he would get rid of it as soon as he left the city. The reasons why he kept it, though, were those messages he couldn’t bring himself to delete. He had read them again and again, everything Andrew had written him since the day they had met. He remembered the phone calls and what the man had sounded like. He remembered the first time Andrew had been high, sending him those demanding texts.

 

Neil gritted his teeth and made a frustrated sound. _Do it._ His thumb hovered over the screen. He closed his eyes and pressed delete, erasing all the messages. It should have felt liberating, but all he felt was anxiety for a moment. _Walk it off._ Like a minor injury that would be forgotten in a minute or two. So he walked. The streets were empty tonight. It was cold and the air was damp. Neil shoved his hands into his pockets, still gripping his phone. He kept walking. 

 

 

It was 3:20am when Andrew’s phone buzzed in the dark of Kevin’s guest bedroom. It didn’t wake him; he hadn’t been asleep to begin with. Kevin hadn’t asked questions when Andrew showed up at his place. One look had been enough to tell the tall striker that no answers would be forthcoming tonight. And that was okay. It was part of their arrangement. They had eaten dinner together and exchanged only a few words before calling it a night. But sleep hadn’t come for Andrew, not even at his friend’s place. 

 

Now he reached for his phone with something like nervous anticipation pulling at his guts. He tried not to get his hopes up. 

 

_‘I don’t know what to do anymore.’_

 

Andrew sat up and pushed the blanket aside. He read the message twice, started to write a reply, but stopped and called Neil instead. The other man didn’t pick up immediately. His phone kept ringing, and Andrew was about to hang up when the call finally went through. They both listened and waited; and again it was Andrew who had enough of this game first. 

 

“Talk to me,” he told Neil, his voice unpleasantly loud after the silence. He could hear a breathy sounding chuckle, followed by Neil swallowing hard. 

 

“I don’t know what to say,” the young man admitted, sounding like Andrew had felt all day: tired and empty, stripped bare of all emotions. Andrew had never heard him like that before. 

 

“Tell me where you are.” Where had his rabbit run off to? He wanted to know. Another pause, and Andrew started to think Neil would refuse to tell him. 

 

“Nowhere,” the other man sighed, making the goalkeeper realize that Neil had been searching for a landmark or building to pinpoint his location. “I don’t know. Close to the river, I think.” He didn’t like it. Andrew rested his elbows on his knees and rubbed his eyes with his free hand.

 

“Tell me and I’ll get you.” Their halting conversation was exhausting. He didn’t get enough input from Neil. Was this how people felt talking to him, he wondered suddenly, then pushed the thought aside again. “Isn’t that why you texted me?” he asked after another pause. 

 

“I don’t know.”

 

“What _do_ you know, then?” A little angrier now. 

 

“I just don’t know,” Neil admitted, his voice fading. Andrew pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes still closed. Hearing Neil like this frustrated him, made him want to be there, but he wasn’t sure the young man would let him. And asking was too hard. 

 

“Tell me you are fine,” he taunted him. What else could he do? He waited and the renewed silence between them was grinding on his nerves. A minute ticked away without another word, followed by a slow, suffering exhale. 

 

“I wish I was.” 

 

“Neil.” He’d had enough. Andrew was getting up and reached for his clothes. “Send me your location,” he said and hung up to get dressed. 

 

He wasn’t too worried about waking Kevin up. His friend was a deep sleeper; and even if he did manage to wake him, Andrew didn’t need to explain himself in front of the striker. He could come and go as he pleased. That’s why they had exchanged keys after all. Fully dressed, Andrew sat down on the bed again and waited. It took a few minutes but then he received the message and zoomed in on the map. It wouldn’t take too long to get there at this hour. 

 

As he reached his destination, Andrew parked the car and looked around. No trace of Neil, but he could see the waterfront not far ahead and decided it was his best bet. He left the car behind and went ahead on foot. If he couldn’t find the man, he would just call him again. He didn’t need to have worried though. There was only one lonely figure sitting on the back of a bench looking out on the river.Andrew recognized Neil immediately. 

 

The goalkeeper went over, leaned back against the bench facing the opposite direction, and lit a cigarette. He observed the waterfront around them, letting Neil take the first step this time. Whatever went through the young man’s head though, Neil didn’t seem too keen on sharing. Andrew’s cigarette was halfway gone by the time Neil moved for the first time, acknowledging his presence with a slight turn of his head and a sigh.

 

“I wish you’d have never found out about me.” 

 

Andrew let that sink it. He took another drag from his cigarette before letting it slip from his fingers and grinding it out below his heel. “Technically, I haven’t yet.” 

 

“You know too much already.” That monotone voice belonged to someone else, even though Neil was sitting right beside him. All the fight had gone out of him. 

 

“All I need to know is that you being here is not part of some scheme. That it doesn’t involve Kevin or me.” He would still want to know the whole truth though. 

 

“But it does,” Neil sighed. “Not the way you think, but I already told you: Kevin knows me.”

 

“What’s your name?” Andrew could tell that the man was tired of running. Another push or two and he might tell the truth. 

 

“You still haven’t asked him?” Mild surprise there. Neil didn’t understand the way he worked yet. 

 

“I’m asking you now.” He leaned back a little, bringing the other man’s face into his peripheral field of vision. “How much do you trust me?” 

 

“Do? Or want to? Isn’t that the question?” _Hmm… maybe._ The goalkeeper shrugged. His question remained the same. “Wesninski.” The name meant nothing to Andrew, but it was the key Neil handed him to unlock his past. All he had to do now was to turn it. 

 

“How did that feel?” he wanted to know. Now he looked at Neil. 

 

“Terrifying,” the young man answered, and it was written all over him: the way his hands were gripping the wooden bench, his hunched shoulders and the tension in his muscles, his pale face and the wide eyes staring out over the water. 

 

Andrew leaned over and waited, tilting his head a little, and Neil closed the gap without hesitation. It was an awkward kiss, a little off-balance, a little shy, as if they had to get to know each other again and were not yet sure how. Andrew frowned a little, placed one hand on Neil’s cheek to keep them steady with their eyes closed and kissed him again, a little harder this time; the tension was melting away. They kept kissing like that until Neil broke away panting, touching their foreheads together. 

 

“You’ve made a mess of yourself,” Andrew accused him and wound his fingers through the young man’s hair. 

 

“Story of my life,” Neil agreed quietly and the goalkeeper sighed. “Why are _you_ angry though?” Neil asked a little bemused. 

 

“Come back to my place,” the blonde told him instead of answering. “I need to sleep, and you look dead on your feet.” If Neil was walking around aimlessly in the middle of the night, there was a high chance he didn’t want to go home.

 

“Flattery will get you nowhere. You are horrible at it.” This felt almost too intimate. It reminded Andrew of the day Kevin had come to him for help, hiding behind his back from Riko. 

 

“Yes or no?” He let go of Neil and stood back up, not waiting for an actual answer, but leaving it up to Neil to follow him or to turn him down by staying. He walked back to his car and was a little relieved to hear footsteps following him. 

 

Nothing further happened between them that morning. Andrew took them back to his apartment, where he and Neil mumbled a slightly awkward ‘good night’ and closed the doors to their bedrooms. The sun would rise soon and they both intended to sleep in. 

 

It was Andrew who woke up first. He thought about checking in on Neil but decided to let him sleep. No doubt he needed it. When the young man did emerge from the guest room, he looked more than a little disheveled on his short trip to the bathroom. Andrew only caught a glimpse of him, but the image would stay with him forever. It was maybe a good thing Neil didn’t know about it. His guest –it felt strange thinking of him that way– took a quick shower and finally presented himself after getting dressed.

 

Andrew was sitting on the sofa with his phone in his hands, texting. They looked at each other, causing another awkward pause. Just two men facing each other; not client and hooker for once. 

 

“Food, coffee,” Andrew found his voice first and pointed over at the kitchen. Neil mumbled a ‘Thanks’ and shuffled over to the coffee machine. ‘Good mornings’ were overrated, especially when it was already midday. The dark-haired man sat down opposite of Andrew in a leather chair, nursing a mug of coffee. 

 

“Andrew?” 

 

“Hm?” The goalkeeper was busy answering another text. 

 

“Thank you. For last night, I mean.” Hazel eyes flickered briefly up to Neil, but that was Andrew’s only reaction. He wasn’t interested in gratitude. 

 

“You are coming with me this evening. I want you to meet Kevin.” For once, Neil was lost for words. 

 

 

 

 

 

“I’m not sure this is such a good idea,” Neil said, fidgeting in his seat. His nervous energy was palpable. 

 

“Humor me,” Andrew replied and parked the car in the nearly empty parking lot close to the stadium. He turned to Neil and observed the young man. Nervous, yes.; tense and maybe a little bit afraid, but he could see the excitement in him too. Good. This was his peace offering after all. “Hey.” Andrew brought Neil’s attention back to him. He had been staring at the stadium in front of them wide-eyed and in awe. Those once again brown eyes returned to his. “You want this.” It wasn’t a question. 

 

“I do,” Neil admitted and Andrew smirked crookedly. Neil had gone home earlier, but had already been waiting outside when Andrew went to get him on his way to the stadium.

 

“Such an obvious lie,” he said, referring to the first time he had asked Neil about this. The taller man shrugged a little embarrassed. 

 

“The truth had been out of the question.” Neil looked back up at the stadium. 

 

“It never is,” Andrew answered, “get used to it.” Then he got out of the car and Neil followed him.

 

Kevin was waiting for them inside. Practice was over for today, so they had the place to themselves. The striker was standing outside the Plexiglas box, dressed casually in a hoodie and sweatpants, holding an Exy ball in one hand. Andrew went straight to him, but Neil stood back watching the two from a safe distance. 

 

“What is this?” Kevin asked irritably, eyes on Neil. Kevin could play nice for the media, Andrew knew, but in reality one had to work hard for his approval and he always let it show. 

 

“Why, Kevin, it’s called fan service. Have you heard of it?” He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest, looking up at his friend. 

 

“I’m surprised _you_ have. What’s going on?” He’d called Kevin and asked him to meet him here. He left out the detail that they wouldn’t be alone. Andrew didn’t want to spoil the surprise, wanted to observe this meeting very closely. 

 

 

Kevin was mildly annoyed. Andrew had called him this morning, telling him to meet him at the stadium later. Why at the stadium, Kevin had wanted to know, it was so unlike Andrew. You’ll see, had been the response. And then his friend had hung up –typical Andrew Minyard. Not showing up had never been an option. Kevin briefly entertained the thought that Andrew would finally open up and discuss matters of his lawsuit, but whom was he kidding? And now this. Who was the guy he brought along? 

 

“You don’t want to know.” Whenever Andrew said that, Kevin was sure he didn’t want to know. He had years of experience to trust his feelings on that matter. 

 

“Tell me this, then –what’s in it for you?” He tossed the ball in the air and caught it again, repeated the process, but never took his eyes off Andrew. The goalkeeper looked at him –pleased? Now, that was odd. It was such a rare expression on Andrew’s face. 

  
“Points for asking the right question, Day. I still won’t tell you.” Kevin rolled his eyes. Typical Andrew Minyard. 

 

“Alright, here is another one: Is it worth it?” Andrew smiled, actually _smiled_ at him –not a sneer, not in a funny way, he just smiled and Kevin almost forgot to catch the ball. “Okay then,” he said, a little perplexed. And that was it. He turned and made his way over to the young man who stood next to the door. “You. What position do you play?” The young man straightened and pulled his shoulders back. To his credit he didn't seem intimidated. But damn, he was nearly as short as Andrew. 

 

“Backliner.” _Good luck with that_ , he thought. Kevin doubted this guy would be able to stop anyone on the court. 

 

“Get out there, you can take one of our racquets. That’s all you will need.” He wouldn't hurt the rookie. He’d just humiliate him a little. 

 

“I thought you were injured.” The guy eyed him suspiciously. Kevin’s face was a mask of arrogance. 

 

“Oh please. They could have amputated my arm and I’d still beat you.” Rookie didn't like to hear that, but Kevin didn't care. “We will do some drills and see what you’ve got.” He’d have to play with his right hand again. It would still hurt like a bitch, he knew. Still… Kevin nodded at the team’s racquets. He took his own and went out onto the court. No sign of Andrew anywhere, but that was no surprise. Kevin was sure the man was watching them from somewhere. 

 

He didn't wait for Rookie. Kevin lined up some balls and took his first shot. It _hurt_. Too early, they had told him. Well, maybe they had been right. He took a breath and hissed it out through his teeth. Rookie was testing the weight of the racquets –or maybe he was just pretending to and enjoyed to actually touch the team’s gear. When he finally found one he liked, he joined Kevin on the court. 

 

Kevin started him of on some old Raven drills. They were the very basic skills every Raven had to master. To his surprise, the guy didn't even let him finish explaining before he took the first shot, then the next and the next. Like he did this every day. _What the fuck? Who is this guy?_

 

“Where did you play?” Kevin eyed him suspiciously. 

 

“High school team. You wouldn't know the name, even if I told you,” Rookie said evasively. 

 

“Who trained you?” Kevin narrowed his eyes and stared at him. The man shrugged. 

 

“My coach. His name is Scott Pierson.” He had never heard that name before. Kevin was sure this guy was lying. The question was why. He let him try some other drills. Some he knew, some he didn’t. He didn't manage them all. Still, the potential… All that _wasted_ potential, it made Kevin grit his teeth in anger and frustration. He turned around and looked at the empty bench behind the open door. 

 

“Andrew!” Kevin turned his head, looking around searchingly. “Andrew, get out here!” Rookie was still playing absentmindedly with one of the balls, expression guarded, head lowered, poised to run, Kevin thought. The striker turned back to him, more than a little annoyed now. He grabbed the front of the man’s shirt with his right hand and twisted his wrist, pulling the collar close around his neck. What kind of game was Andrew playing with him?

 

“You,” he hissed angrily. “Do I know you? Where the hell did you really play?” Those brown eyes stared back, and Kevin couldn't decide if Rookie wanted to hit him or to run away from him as fast as he could. –And were those colored contacts? That face though… Kevin thought he had seen this guy before somewhere. 

 

“When I told you to play with him, I didn't mean you should feel him up, Kevin.” Andrew stood in the open door, watching them, arms crossed. Kevin let go of Rookie and marched over to his goalkeeper. 

 

“I think you left out some details,” he snarled. 

 

“Did I? You said you wanted someone to play with.” Andrew answered nonchalant, in a way he knew pissed Kevin off. 

 

“No, I said, I want to play with _you_.” 

 

The goalkeeper shrugged. “I think he’ll do,” he replied. They stared at each other, but today was not the first time Kevin won that contest. He wasn't sure that day would ever come. 

 

“Whatever,” Kevin hissed and turned around. “You,” he pointed at the man still standing on the court. “Get out of here.” Rookie didn't say anything. He came over and when he passed them at the door, Andrew traded the racquet for his car key. They exchanged a look and then the guy was gone. Kevin waited until he heard the door close behind him before he told Andrew, “We need to talk.” 

 

Andrew had only a lazy smirk for him. Kevin put the racquets back where they belonged and took the time to control his anger. 

 

“Where did you find him?” Where on earth had Andrew found someone like that? And yes, it wasn’t beneath him to bring this guy over to show him off, knowing how it would irk his team captain to no end to see someone like that. 

 

“I didn’t,” Andrew replied. He ignored the no smoking sign and lit a cigarette. _He should really stop smoking_ , Kevin thought for the umpteenth time. He had no chance to say anything though when Andrew added, “You did.” 

 

“Excuse me?” Andrew chuckled. Whenever Kevin got irritated and was caught off guard he fell back into false politeness. It really came in handy when he was confronted by the press, but with Andrew it seemed painfully out of place. 

 

“Millport Dingos, remember them?” 

 

“Millport?” Kevin echoed. He stopped in his tracks. “No way… Are you telling me you found Josten?” How on earth had he managed that? That guy had simply vanished years ago. 

 

“I didn’t find him,” Andrew repeated. And then: “His name isn’t Josten. Tell me, Kevin, does the name Wesninski ring a bell?” The striker could feel the color draining from his face. Did that name ring a bell? It set all the alarms off at once. 

 

“Say that again?” His brows drew together, worry edging deep into his forehead. Andrew knew he had heard him, that he was only stalling for time. The blonde waited, letting him process. “You found the Butcher’s boy.” His voice was low. “Nathaniel.” He turned and stared at Andrew. “His name is Nathaniel.” Andrew’s face was blank. Either his friend had no information or he wanted to keep it for himself. “Jesus, Andrew…” Kevin looked at the door where Nathaniel had vanished only minutes earlier. 

 

“We spooked him back at Millport High: you, coach and I. He was hiding there back then, playing Exy. He said you would have ‘handed him over’. To whom, Kevin?” He winced at that. No, he wouldn’t have revealed Nathaniel’s identity to anyone back then, but he couldn’t blame him for believing it. How was he supposed to know that Kevin Day was himself hiding from the Ravens and the Moriyama family back then? Hiding in plain sight behind an unpredictable young man who had sworn to protect him. 

 

“How much has he told you?” 

 

“Not much.” Now it was Andrew who looked over his shoulder at the door. “I need you to fill in some blanks for me. Better do it quick though. He might be running again as we speak. So tick tock, Kevin. Who is he running from?” 

 

“Why are you asking me?” He gave a short, helpless chuckle that lacked any humor. “My guess? All of them. The Moriyamas, his father… could be anyone, really. I can’t tell you much. You’ll have to ask him. I last saw Nathaniel at Evermore when he was ten. He was supposed to join us then. Riko wanted him for the team, had claimed him from Wesninski the Butcher. That was the night Nathaniel’s father killed a man in front of us. He’s a dangerous man, Andrew. His son never joined the Ravens. As far as I know, his mother took him and vanished- stole some money and left the country. Riko was furious, but they couldn’t find him. –And now you are telling me it was the same guy we wanted to recruit back in Millport…” He couldn’t believe it. Andrew had that dark, dangerous look on his face. He knew that look. It promised violence. 

 

“Andrew, you can’t protect him. Listen to me. Let him run. I doubt that Riko will come after him; he has lost interest. Nathaniel is too old by now, he’s useless as a player; he has no experience. But the Moriyamas might, and the Butcher will hunt him down eventually. You can’t get involved in this.” He just couldn’t allow Andrew to get caught up in this mess. It was too dangerous. His friend looked unworried though. 

 

“You of all people should know better.” He turned to leave. “Don’t touch those racquets again,” he told him and left Kevin standing there.

 

 

 

Andrew found Neil outside waiting in the parking lot. He looked a shade too pale, but he was still there. Good enough. “Didn’t expect you to still be here.” _Always expect the worst, less disappointments that way_. Neil held the keys out to him. 

 

“Isn’t that why you handed me these?” _Clever boy_. He shrugged but didn’t take them back. 

 

“Get in,” he told Neil and walked around the car to get in on the passenger’s side. Neil blinked and watched him, then let out a sigh and lowered his head, clenching the car keys in his fist. “Maybe you are fast, but you can’t outrun this car. So get in.”

 

“Why are you doing this?” The taller man didn’t look up. 

 

“What am I doing?” Andrew leaned against his car, arms resting on the polished roof. 

 

“What do you want from me, Andrew? Because whatever it is, I sure as hell can’t give it to you. So why are you wasting your time?” 

 

“You know, I liked you better when you were angry. Pathetic doesn’t look good on you. Don’t tell me what I can and can’t have. Don’t ask me what I want. Here is a secret. I don’t _want_ anything. I don’t care enough. The drugs couldn’t change that, so who are you to think you can? So when it actually does happen, you better shut up because I don’t want to think about it. Right now I’m asking you to get in the car and get us out of here. Can you do that, or not? Better tell me now, because maybe I’m seriously overestimating your abilities here.” 

 

He watched as Neil gritted his teeth. He knew the guy didn’t want him to leave him here. Neil could have been gone by now, keys be damned. Then Neil shot him an angry look full of frustration, which he stoically returned until the taller man caved and got in the car. Andrew did the same on the other side and leaned back in his seat. 

 

“Where are we going?” Neil wanted to know. 

 

“How should I know? You are the guy with the car keys. Wherever you want.” He closed his eyes and relaxed. He let Neil make up his mind, waited for him to start the engine and make himself familiar with the car’s interior, adjusting the seat a little. “I’d suggest finding an empty stretch of road somewhere along the way though.” He could feel Neil’s eyes on him but didn’t open his to make sure. 

 

“Andrew.” 

 

“Hm?” 

 

“…nothing, just…” He guessed Neil was choking on some kind of thank you or maybe an apology. He wanted neither. 

 

“Wake me when we get somewhere,” he said, and finally the car started moving. Why was all of this so exhausting? Talking to each other, _not_ talking to each other, didn’t matter, everything felt just so draining. _Or maybe it’s the uncertainty_. But Neil was here now, with him, so Andrew settled back deeper into his seat and crossed his arms over his chest. 

 

“Somewhere…” Neil muttered. 

 

“Anywhere,” Andrew agreed. “I didn’t bring my passport, so you might want to stay clear of any boarders.” 

 

Neil huffed in disbelieve. “When do you have to get back tonight?” _Still testing boundaries_. 

 

“I don’t. You ask too many questions. Just drive.” Truth be told, he was curious where Neil might want to go. They spent the next minutes in comfortable silence; Neil getting used to driving the expensive car and Andrew winding down enough to doze off for a while. 

 

“Don’t touch me if you want to wake me,” he muttered when he knew he might actually fall asleep. It was a fair warning. How many times had he hit one of his teammates when they had tried to rouse him during the drive home after a game? Someone told him they drew lots now. 

 

“I remember,” Neil answered. C _ourse you do…_ He did a mental eye roll. He thought about the last time they had gone for a road trip. Neil sleeping next to him, them holding hands while grabbing the gearshift… He had liked that. 

 

 

Neil was a little taken aback by how easily Andrew fell asleep next to him in the car. The goalkeeper obviously did not share his reservations in that matter. His breath evened out and his head fell slightly towards the window, his chin almost resting on his shoulder. It felt odd. Here he was behind the wheel of a ridiculously expensive car, unobserved and free to go wherever he pleased. He had Andrew’s permission. Andrew…

 

Part of him still regretted texting him again last night. It felt like he had lost a battle against himself. The same part called him weak and spineless for kissing the goalkeeper again as soon as Andrew had leaned over –no discussion, no questions asked. The other part remembered how reassuring itfelt to kiss the man, to have someone next to him who cared, and not being alone when he didn’t know what to do anymore. That part told him that it was just a ceasefire between them, a chance to discuss new terms and solve some of their problems. That part still hoped there was a good explanation for all of this. It was also the part of him whose trust rested on the fundament of Andrew’s declaration of love. 

 

_Ridiculous_ , the voice of reason told him. _He can’t be in love with you. He doesn’t even know you. –So he is in love with the idea of Neil Josten the hooker. Like I am still clinging to the idea of Andrew Minyard the Exy player. –That’s not enough._ Maybe not. Maybe it was a start though. Neil didn’t know. 

 

Spending the night at Andrew’s apartment and him offering to let him meet Kevin Day, his idol, without telling the striker who was standing next to him on the court… That had been the strangest situation Neil had ever been in. He could tell that he had impressed Kevin. That might have been the best part. Seeing Kevin’s arrogance crack and him choking on his own words, _god_ , that had been worth it! 

 

But that was over now. Neil was sure Andrew had spoken to Kevin after he had left them alone. And why wouldn’t he? He had given him the name Wesninski so he could find out about him. Kevin had been a bargaining chip. It had been fun while it lasted though. He would always remember it: him standing on the U.S. national court, holding one of the custom-made racquets, and facing one of the best players in the world. Too bad Kevin was injured. He had loved to race him across the field at least once. Neil smiled a little. 

 

When he had to stop for gas, Andrew woke up again. The blonde rubbed his eyes and squinted at their surroundings through the window. Gas station was all he could gather but he didn’t ask where they were or where they were going. He stopped Neil’s hand on its way to unbuckle the seatbelt and said, “I got it,” voice still a little raspy from sleep. He rubbed his neck and turned his head a little to get rid of the stiffness there –a courtesy of his nap in an almost upright seat– got out and took care of the Maserati, before leaving Neil behind in the car. He returned minutes later and threw something at Neil, which he barely managed to catch before it hit him in the face. It turned out to be a protein bar. Andrew stored two more of those, two cans of coffee and two candy bars between them in the middle console, then settled back in his seat again. 

 

“Thanks.” The goalkeeper grunted a reply and closed his eyes. 

 

“Are you going to take another nap?” Neil asked a little bemused. 

 

“We are not there yet, are we?” 

 

“How do you know where ‘there’ is?” 

 

“I don’t. I’m fairly sure it’s not a gas station though.” Andrew yawned, then put his seat back a little. 

 

“Maybe I’m going to kidnap you,” Neil remembered the joke from last time. 

 

“Good luck, then. I’m armed. You might wanna check first next time.” Immediately the taller man’s eyes darted to Andrews crossed arms. 

 

“Do you always carry knives?” The humor was completely gone from his voice. 

 

“No,” Andrew sighed. “Obviously not.” He refused to open his eyes again. “Usually though.” 

 

“Did you carry them every time we met?” Neil wanted to know. 

 

“I did. Don’t give yourself too much credit. It’s a habit I had long before I knew you.” They were still at the gas station. It was dark outside and the guy watching the black car on the cameras was probably asking himself what they were waiting for. “Why does that bother you?” 

 

“Why? You pulled a knife on me, Andrew. Now you tell me you could have done that every time we’ve met. You carry knives even though you’ve told me you could attack me. Maybe I missed something, but I’m pretty sure you forgot to mention that ‘might hurt you’ included a stab wound.”

 

Andrew exhaled audibly through his nose. “Let’s find a better place to discuss this. It can wait that long, can it?” 

 

“Means you are willing to talk about it,” Neil pointed out to make sure. 

 

“That’s what I just said. Now, if you trust me enough not to stab you in my own car and ruin my seats with your blood, get us back on the road.” Sighing Neil did so, asking himself when he adopted the habit of courting danger. Andrew went back to dozing, but Neil could tell the goalkeeper didn’t fall asleep again. 

 

 

 

Neil couldn’t believe he had really made this trip, but here he was; Federal Hill Park, Baltimore, and the skyline at night greeted him in all its shining glory. They left the car and sat on yet another bench facing the harbor. 

 

“Home, sweet home?” Andrew asked, sipping his coffee. 

 

“Hardly,” Neil said. He was leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees. It amazed him a little how calm he was while sitting here. He hadn’t dared to come near Baltimore since the day his mother had taken him away to flee the country. 

 

“But your father is out there somewhere,” Andrew asked and Neil nodded. So Andrew _had_ spoken to Kevin. “Is he still searching for you?” 

 

“I think so. Why would he give up?”

 

“How much money did you steal?” Andrew sounded curious. Well, it was an interesting question, Neil supposed. How much money did it take to bring a father to hunt down his own son? 

 

“I didn’t steal it. My mother took it. I inherited it.”

 

“So she’s dead.” Neil nodded again, glad he didn’t have to spell it out. 

 

“They hunted us down like animals. You see, it’s not just the money. My father gave me away. He thinks my mother stole me.” 

 

“From the Moriyamas.” Andrew leaned back, resting his arms on the top of the bench. 

 

“Do you understand now? I can’t be seen with you. There are cameras everywhere around you.” The goalkeeper made a face that made it clear that he thought Neil was exaggerating. 

 

“Ever thought about getting him behind bars?” It sounded so easy when Andrew said it in his calm voice. Neil chuckled. 

 

“Thought about it? Are you kidding me? It’s the stuff of my dreams. By now I can’t even tell you what freedom feels like. It’s a foreign concept to me. But I can’t face him. It would be suicide.” 

 

“Only if you do it alone,” Andrew said and Neil looked at him suspiciously. 

 

“Piece of advise: stay out of this. I mean it. Don’t get involved, Andrew. Don’t stick you nose in it, don’t sniff around, no more detective shit. This isn’t a game. I’m telling you about this so you won’t do something stupid.” 

 

“What makes you think I would?” _Because you said you love me._

 

“Your reputation,” he replied. 

 

“You don’t know anything about that,” Andrew said, not buying it. 

 

“I know you attacked a player for injuring Kevin on the court. You’ve protected him for years, haven’t you? From Riko.” Andrew glared at him, opening his mouth, but Neil cut him short and added, “I’ve seen the interviews, Andrew. Kevin is afraid of Riko. He’s scared of him and I don’t blame him. And when you attacked me you asked me about Kevin. You thought Riko sent me. So let’s not pretend.” Neil looked the goalkeeper in the eyes. “Did Riko break Kevin’s hand?” He had thought about it and it was the only conclusion that made sense to him. Kevin left the Ravens after he injured his hand. Now, Neil knew nothing about skiing, but he doubted it had been an accident.

 

“He did. Now you tell me once and for all that bastard has no clue where you are.” 

 

“God, I really hope so,” Neil sighed. “I don’t know what he’d do, but I’m sure my father would hear of it. –You thought he found me after Millport.” The blonde nodded. “He didn’t. Not sure he ever knew I was there.” Neil stood up and stepped closer to the slope in front of them. “Wanna tell me about those knives now?” he asked without turning around.

 

“It’s _a_ knife and why are you so fixated on it? People carry knives. Some people carry guns.” 

 

“Not while they are having sex with me. Sorry, told you blood play is a hard limit for me. –Seriously, Andrew, not telling me was a dick move.” 

 

The Exy player sighed in annoyance and Neil felt his anger rising because of it. Maybe Andrew had gotten that knife after getting raped, he didn’t know. That still didn’t make it okay. “Come here,” Andrew told him. 

 

“Hm?” Neil crossed his arms and came back to the bench. The goalkeeper reached under his black wristband and pulled the knife out of its sheath. It was a small one, easy enough to hide. He held it out for Neil to inspect. 

 

“It was a gift.”

 

“From the person teaching you how to use it?” Neil knew a thing or two about knives. Throwing them had been part of his education. Cutting flesh with them had been another one. Back then his father had plans for him to follow his footsteps. That was before he was given to the Moriyamas though; before his mother ran away with him. 

 

“I knew how to use them before I met her,” Andrew said.

 

“Her?”

 

“Her. You think a girl can’t use a knife to defend herself?”

 

“I never said that.” Women were fierce when they had something to protect. Neil knew that better than anybody. Protecting oneself was as good a reason as any other to learn how to fight. 

 

“Well, this one could beat a skinny boy like you in under ten seconds.” Andrew sheathed the knife again. He spoke almost fondly of that person. Neil wondered who she was and what she meant to Andrew. “As for attacking you,” the goalkeeper looked up at him, “I wouldn’t pull this knife on you if you made a wrong move around me. I only use it deliberately.” 

 

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Neil placed his hands on either side of Andrew on top of the bench and leaned forward until their faces were on the same level. “I’m _not_ afraid of you.” 

 

“Are you sure about that?” The goalkeeper didn’t move. 

 

“Yes. I wouldn’t be here otherwise. Andrew…” Neil frowned. “I really wanted to keep our relationship. I liked it. I like you.”

 

“You mean my money,” Andrew said unimpressed. He was so hard to read. 

 

“Are you deliberately trying to twist my words now? I said you. I like you as the person who has asked me to figure things out with him. I know it didn’t exactly go as planned. But it wasn’t so bad, was it?” Andrew only replied with a mocking snort. “Are you angry because I didn’t answer when you told me that you have a crush on me?” 

 

“Oh, Neil, I believe you made yourself very clear.” He flashed a grin at the taller man. “It’s alright though. If you are asking me if we are still doing business, the answer is yes. We can go back to where we left off. Why would _I_ refuse?” Neil furrowed his brows at him, unsure of what to say. In a way, Andrew was offering him what he wanted. Maybe taking it would be his best choice right now. “Now, how much do you want for letting me kiss you right now?” 

 

“Are you making fun of me?” He couldn’t tell. Andrew delivered his jokes either in his usual monotone voice or in exaggerated snide tones. 

 

“Hardly. I’m just taking you up on your offer. So, Neil, I’ll need a yes,” he cocked his head and shrugged a little, “or a no from you. Which one is it?” Neil leaned in closer, tilted his head to the other side; but Andrew moved his head back and placed one foot against the black-haired man’s hip to hold him back. _What are you doing?_ “You have to tell me.” 

 

“Yes, Andrew. You can kiss me.” It felt like Andrew was teasing him. The foot withdrew and the goalkeeper leaned forward again to kiss him. Neil closed his eyes and met his lips with his own, being the first to bite this time, and the first to lick into that smart mouth that tasted like coffee. He remembered all too well what Andrew liked because he liked it too when it was the goalkeeper who kissed him until his lips hurt. He hummed a little, already enjoying this way too much again. 

 

When Andrew leaned back again, his lips were red and tingling, judging by the way he licked them. “So? How much do I owe you?” 

 

“You can pay me next time,” Neil replied, deciding that they would meet again. 

 

“And do you want to show me around or are we done here?” Andrew wanted to know. Neil turned around, facing the city once again and shook his head. 

 

“To be honest, I just wanted to know if I had the nerve to come here.” 

 

“Alright then.” Andrew stood up and left. When they were both standing next to the Maserati again, Neil handed him the keys back. 

 

“Nice car,” he told him. Andrew unlocked it and got in. The sound of the engine filled the air. Neil smirked a little, walked to the other side and got in. The goalkeeper drove them back and Neil allowed him to bring him home to his old studio apartment where his four boxes and empty kitchen awaited him. It was already late at night, almost morning again. “Call me,” he told the Exy star and watched him drive away, before going inside and falling asleep on the old bed that wouldn’t be his anymore soon enough. He needed to find a new place he told himself before drifting off. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is broken into two parts. pls have a look at the note at the beginning of the next part, so there won't be any unpleasant surprises.


	17. 15.3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ♠︎♠︎♠︎Just in case you are one of those tender souls who absolutely despise to read anything but Andreil, please note that the following scene gives you a little insight into Neil's backstory and his relationship with the German. There will be some mild BDSM (bondage, sensory deprivation, mild breath play) so in case you don't like reading about those things, pls skip the part and continue reading after the horizontal line. Otherwise, pls enjoy the last part of this story. ♠︎♠︎♠︎

“Christian, welcome.” There was only one man who called him by this name, and he pronounced it like Kris- _ti_ an, like they all did in Germany. Neil lowered his gaze and stepped closer, felt a hand squeezing his shoulder through his shirt, strong and reassuring. “I’m glad you could make it.” 

 

They were not alone, or the greetings might have looked a little different. Two other men were sitting in the comfortable leather chairs in front of the German’s desk inside the office behind the club. Both had turned halfway around to see the newcomer, both were looking at Neil with open approval and admiration. The hand squeezing his shoulder was a warning for everyone involved though. Now it slid upwards a little, above Neil’s collar-line, long, elegant fingers kneading the strong muscles of his trapezius, the thump getting closer to the hollow of his throat. Neil didn’t move and submitted to this nonverbal claim of ownership, dampening the excitement of the potential new client. This one was not intended for them. 

 

“How could I refuse such an invitation?” Neil answered. Again, if they had been alone he might have spoken in German. The man in front of him was usually pleased by his language skills. The man had called him this morning, inviting him for one last scene before he would leave the country again.

 

“We are nearly finished here. Would you mind waiting for a little while?” The thumb stroked lightly over his Adam’s apple, then the German withdrew his hand. 

 

“Of course not, take your time. I’ll wait at the bar.” Neil could get away with a little cockiness and disobedience with this man, but it was in general a better idea to keep those little acts of power-play between them to a minimum and use them strategically. Right now he waited to be dismissed, eyes fixed at the neatly bound black tie at the man’s neck, with its intricate designs within the silk fabric, playing his role in front of the other men. He was not a pet, but he knew his place. They were not in a scene, but this man liked to play the dominant role under all circumstances. 

 

“Stay if you like. Or go and enjoy the show. It’s quite an interesting crowd tonight. Get yourself something to drink.”

 

“Danke. Ich werde draußen warten.”¹

 

“Ich werde dich finden, sei unbesorgt.” The man smiled lovingly and turned back towards the other two. Neil accepted his dismissal and turned on his heel, closing the door behind him on his way out. 

 

The club was buzzing tonight with the sound of electro-industrial music and people in black- and neon-colored attire. Most of them wore make-up and some had some sort of neon light accessories,making it fascinating to watch the crowd on the dance floor moving to the heavy bass. Interesting crowd indeed. 

 

Neil leaned against the bar closest to the office and the VIP area and watched. He was greeted like an old friend by the bartenders and accepted some soda water with lime and mint. They knew him. Smalltalk with the bartenders was an easy affair. He let them talk about the guests, listened to some stories and offered next to no information of his own. 

 

His drink was only half empty when the German found him, and they both left the club together in the man’s midnight blue Porsche. Neil made this trip many times over the years. He knew exactly which roads they would take, how the doors leading to and from the underground parking area below the apartment building were secured by codes, and how the apartment upstairs always smelled clean, never like ‘home’ or at least ‘homely’. 

 

He knew he would get rid of his jacket and shoes and then follow the man into the spacious living room, with its clean and open design, the dark walls and dark charcoal colored furniture. He’d be offered a drink, which he’d refuse unless it was part of the following scene. Then they’d sit down and discuss the evening’s main event. There were two patterns for these meetings: he would either have been invited like tonight, which was far more often the case – or he would have requested a meeting and hope the man was currently in the city or at least planning to come by soon. The later kind of meetings were usually the harder ones. Neil only used them as his last resort, and they had become a rarity. But sometimes he needed them. 

 

Now the older man was sitting across from him at the coffee table, a tumbler with gin and tonic in front of him, regarding him for a minute or two in silence. 

 

“How are you?” he finally asked, and Neil knew the reason for this question. “We didn’t really talk about it last time. Seeing you like this, I feel a little guilty about it.” The previous weeks had left their traces on him, and that didn’t even include the split lower lip he had gotten from fighting with Andrew on his apartment floor. A look in the bathroom mirror before he left his place tonight had only told him what he already knew –he looked like shit these days: tired and pale with purplish shadows under his eyes. He’d lost a few pounds of muscle too, and that angered him maybe the most of all. 

 

“I’m fine. Physically, I mean. It’s been a rough couple of weeks.” He could admit those things here; it was required of him. He could keep the details to himself, but his physical condition was –had always been– part of the discussion. 

 

“One of your clients?” The older man swiped his thumb at his own lower lip, right where Neil’s cut was. 

 

“Yes,” Neil admitted. “I took care of it.” Blows to the face were rarely part of a scene for him. He didn’t like any marks there; open on display for everyone to see, raising questions. They both knew that. “It won’t be an issue in the future.” 

 

“I see. You know I will find you new clients if you need them. Background check and all included. You know that, don’t you?” 

 

“I know.” He just wanted as few ties to this man as possible. That included his clients. Even though those coming from the database paid more for his services, even after deducting the fee he paid the German for introducing him to them. 

 

“I can’t force you. Just feel free to ask. –Now, physically, you said. Tell me, how bad is it these days? One to ten.” 

 

“Six or seven. It’s getting better.” His anxiety levels. Eight was his threshold to consider asking for a meeting. But only if it lasted for more than two days. The real reason why Neil hadn’t snapped and bolted during those last few years sat right in front of him. 

 

“Any requests for tonight?” 

 

“No. Nothing in particular.” His tone while talking to this man when they were sitting together like this was usually the same: polite but a little colder than usual, less colored by emotions. He didn’t need to fake anything here, didn’t need to smile, to flatter, to make it more interesting by inventing little details. The exception was when he felt so anxious that he could barely sit still enough in his chair to get this part over with. 

 

“I was thinking of asphyxiation for tonight’s scene. Extended breath play is still on your hard limit list with your clients, isn’t it?” He cocked his head a little and Neil nodded. “Good. That’s fine then. Now, we’ll come up with another method but you remember your safe words until we get there?” 

 

“Fuchs und Rabe.”² The man smiled fondly. 

 

“A lesson well remembered,” he praised him. “A nice tale, too.” They both got up and Neil followed him down the hallway and into the playroom. Even this room always smelled clean, no matter how much sweat and tears and other bodily fluids had been shed in here. Neil was sure someone else was cleaning it up afterwards. He mentally switched to German in here. This man was the reason he kept practicing that language, while his skills in French were slowly growing dull from disuse. 

 

The room was tidy as usual. Toys and other equipment were stored away and mostly out of sight, apart from a few more expensive items that were on display along the dark walls. 

 

“I’ll walk you through it.” German always sounded a little harsh, but Neil found it quite fitting for their scenes. “I want you to strip, then I’ll blindfold you, tie your hands behind your back, and we will use this–“ He went over to a drawer and picked one of the collars in there, one made from black leather and a layer of black lining inside that would keep it from shaving. It had two metal rings attached to it, one in front and one on the back, “to tie you to the ceiling.” 

 

Neil looked automatically upwards, although he knew there were fixtures to suspend chains, ropes and other equipment there. They had used them before. 

 

“It will have some give in it for you to be able to move, but it will be a tight fit when you are on your knees. I’ll cuff your ankles and tie them to the floor. You won’t be able to move from your spot.” 

 

He looked down at the metal rings embedded in the floor. One wouldn’t straight out notice them walking over them; they lined up precisely with the floor while lying flat. There were five of them, strategically placed throughout the room. To Neil, those were terrifying. Bondage was terrifying. The German hadn’t used bonds he could slip or break in over two years. They were past those. 

 

He took a slightly deeper breath. The man in front of him noticed and watched him closely. This was part of their scenes. To an outsider it might have looked as if they were still midst of the negotiations; but this was part of the main act. Neil nodded once, knowing his throat was getting a little tight, and he would have to clear it to produce a normal sounding reply. 

 

“You will stand there and wait, unable to move your feet. I’ll use earplugs on you and then gag you.” 

 

“Fox,” Neil said, his voice scratchy. He needed a moment.

 

“Which part?” The man stood two and a half steps away from him, eyes taking in every detail of Neil’s body language. He saw his throat working as Neil had to swallow hard, saw the involuntary twitch of his muscles as his legs wanted to take a step back. 

 

“Earplugs.” He needed the aural input even if there would be no sounds. Making sure of that and hearing the noises he would make was still better than being trapped inside his head with just the sound of his own breathing inside his ears. 

 

“How bad? One to ten?” 

 

“Eight –I don’t…” His eyes darted across the room. 

 

“How about music?”    
  
“No. No music. I can’t. Not tonight.” The man in front of him nodded. 

 

“Another time perhaps.” He came closer now, handed Neil the collar for inspection. “Take a minute to think it over.” 

 

Having something to do and his hands holding the collar took the edge off. Neil studied the item, turned it over and hooked his finger through one of the rings. It was well crafted, like everything in here. No glue used, all handmade, everything made from high quality materials. It wouldn’t brake. He handed the collar back and nodded. 

 

Earplugs… He thought about it. It would push his limits. His bound feet would be bad enough; the blindfold was an old enemy he had long since gotten used to. It only terrified him in combination with other sensory deprivation these days. 

 

“We can do the earplugs, but no gag tonight. I might need to safeword out of this.” 

 

“I would give you another way out.” 

 

“It’s too much,” Neil admitted. The older man frowned at him, then lifted his chin –when had he lowered his head to stare at the ground– with two fingers and ran a gentle thumb over his split lip. 

 

“This new client of yours… You’ll tell me if he causes problems, won’t you? Even if you can handle him, there is no need for you to get your hands dirty. I’d take care of it for you.” That broke their usual protocol and the scene. Other clients had no part in this. Mentioning them ruined the mood and took them both out of their headspace. This was a place for Neil’s fears and struggles and the man watching him overcome them one by one. _Andrew_ had no part in this. 

 

“That’s not…” He cleared his throat and made eye contact. “It’s not about him.”

 

“I think it is. You’ve been different since the day you took him on as your client. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.” 

 

Neil furrowed his brows and clenched his fists. It might be the truth but he wouldn’t –couldn’t– get Andrew involved in this. “Gag me too,” he said, shoulders squared. The man dropped his hand and exhaled slowly through his nose while turning away. 

 

“No. I think you were right. It’s too much for tonight.” Neil bit his tongue. He’d have to be more careful in the future. 

 

The German went over to the ropes. There would be no chains tonight then. The man usually kept to either sort of bindings, didn’t like to mix materials too much. Everything in here followed a theme, mirroring the man’s personal taste. Black woven rope, thick as a man’s thumb, to bind him to the ceiling, and another shorter one to fixate his bonds to the rings on the floor. Neil knew these. The material was strong enough that even half the diameter would be enough to carry his weight. It was, once again, just personal preference of the older man. He came back with them, letting Neil have a look, but the young man just nodded without touching them this time. He didn’t like ropes; but that was the point. 

 

The remaining items were the bindings for his hands and feet. They had used ropes before; but experience showed that Neil would fight them too much, would struggle against them until his skin was raw; and that was not part of the idea behind this. It could become one –but not tonight. The cuffs were made from the same material and most likely by the same craftsman as the collar. The design was similar. They all came with rings attached so they could be linked to ropes or chains. Tonight the shackles for his wrists would simply be linked to each other behind his back, while the ones for his ankles would be fixated with the piece of rope to the floor rings. Neil handed them back too. 

 

“Now–“ They were coming back to the scene. Neil could hear it in the other man’s tone. He could hear the dominant businessman, the control freak, and his dark need to watch other people’s fear. “I’ll leave you like this, let you struggle until you can’t take it anymore. You can use the safeword, remember that.” Neil nodded once more. ‘Until you can take it no more’ was the key phrase here. The goal was to get him past that point of desperation, of panic. That was what Neil wanted, and it was the reason he kept coming back. He had let this man take him apart over and over, had let him watch –because that was the main act for both of them. This man got off on other people’s fear and anxiety; and Neil had an endless supply of both waiting for him. 

 

_‘I’ll tell you exactly what I’ll do to you. I want you to understand what is going to happen. There won’t be any surprises. There will always be a way out. But if you let me do this, you might overcome your fear.’_ Back when he had given him this speech, on their second evening together, Neil had only cringed. 

 

He had agreed to do it once –the offered money had simply been to good to refuse– and then the man had talked him through the whole process of being tied down and unable to escape – and that had been all it took for him to lose his composure in his volatile state back then. He had panicked, had struggled and fought his bonds until he had been so exhausted that he had simply gone limb. No one had been touching him, no one had been even near enough to touch him. The two of them had been alone; yet the possibility alone that someone –this man– could do something to him while he was completely helpless and at his mercy had triggered another episode. The German had watched him, sitting on the other side of the room, not looking away from him for even a second. Neil hadn’t used his safeword back then. To be completely honest, it had simply slipped his mind in his panic. He had ridden his fear out until it had run its course through him. 

 

_‘You can only feel fear for so long.’_ At some point it was like someone flipped a switch inside your head. Your mind comes to terms with the situation and adapts. It was a survival mechanism that allowed the brain to handle the situation rationally after flight was ruled out as an option. Sometimes it took a while. Sometimes it happened quickly. In either case it was unpleasant; but the outcome was a truly freeing experience. 

 

Sometimes Neil needed to feel it again. Sometimes he craved it. The sex afterwards could be almost pleasant, even with this stranger he had never really gotten to know. It was mainly for the German’s benefit though. The man got excited and turned on by watching him struggle with his demons. 

 

_‘Fear is such a personal thing. It comes in all forms and shades. A grown man can be utterly terrified by something like a small dog, a spider, or something you and I might never even think about. The fear of heights, of small spaces, of crowds… The possibilities are endless. Who are we to judge?’_ Who indeed. Neil had always thought his share of fears was a little too big. His triggers were many and he couldn’t even name them all yet. 

 

The German always talked him through it, made him imagine the whole scene: what they would do, what to expect, how long it might take. He would never do something they hadn’t talked about. Neil knew that for a fact. He could trust that pattern. It was important to him, and it was part of why this arrangement worked. The man couldn’t take away his fears completely. They would return to some degree, but it would calm his anxiety levels down for a while, making it easier to get on with his life. 

 

“Having your legs fixated to the floor is usually enough for you. I can push you further and touch them if you want.” The thought alone made him flinch. 

 

“No. Not tonight,” Neil refused. Having his legs touched while he couldn’t move, even if it wasn’t painful, was one of his triggers. It conjured up images in his head of a knife cutting through tendons, of legs that would never walk again, of shattered bones… all images linked to his father the Butcher. Unable to run, unable to ever play Exy again… He couldn’t bear it. 

 

The German nodded. He liked to take his time watching Neil struggle. Pushing him too far too fast ruined part of the scene. But sometimes Neil only craved a quick release and then he needed to be pushed. 

 

“You are quite strung up at the moment.” Neil could hear that the German blamed Andrew for this. He was right. It wouldn’t do to admit to it though. “It might take you a while tonight.”

 

“I know.” A short period of time like five minutes could feel like an hour in some cases. Time usually lost its meaning for a while during their scenes. “I’m ready.” 

 

The man smiled at him. “But you haven’t heard the end of it.” 

 

“I think you’ve trained me well enough to handle what comes after. It’s the usual, isn’t it? I’m ready.” ‘The usual’ –they’d fuck. Neil didn’t much care where or how. He wouldn’t be hurt; that had never been a thing between them. It usually came down to plain sex; a little rough maybe, fast and hard –but he wouldn’t complain. 

 

“Don’t cut this short,” the man warned him. _Oops_ , wrong move. He had to follow the script. That part couldn’t be rushed without him getting told to take it seriously. He just grew tired of it sometimes. 

 

“I apologize.” He didn’t mean it but it sounded believable. The man didn’t buy it though. He gave Neil a cold stare that made him lower his gaze. 

 

“I really hope you are not so careless with your clients, Christian.” What was it with him bringing up the other clients tonight? It bothered Neil to no end. 

 

“I promise, I’m not. You’ve taught me better than that.” 

 

“I did. Take care to remember that.” Neil lowered his head further, almost a bow at this point. “Anyway,” the man sighed. “Go, prepare and then come back.” 

 

“Yes.” Neil went into the adjoining bathroom. He had gotten used to this routine. He would undress in here, relieve himself if necessary, take a shower –no matter that he had taken one before leaving his apartment–, and then rejoin the man in the other room.

 

The German was waiting for him, still fully dressed, minus the suit jacket and the black tie. The ropes were already in place, waiting to be attached to the shackles. 

 

“Stand over here.” He obeyed, turning his back towards the man. First came the collar. It was put around his neck from behind and then fastened next to the metal ring in the back. The older man attached the rope to it. “Try it.” Neil did. He took a step forward to check the length of the rope, even though he wouldn’t be able to do the same later. He tried to push his fingers between his throat and the collar; he barely managed two by digging them into his skin. It was already a tight fit and wouldn’t give an inch. 

 

“Go down on your knees.” Neil stood directly under the rope and went onto his knees. The collar added enough pressure to allow him to take a slow breath, but it took some effort, and only if he kept his head up. “Too tight?” He got back up and shook his head. “Good. I will use this later when I fuck you.” He nodded, had already expected as much. “Are you ready?” 

 

“Yes.” 

 

“Hands behind your back.” Neil followed his orders, briefly thought about doing that for Andrew on multiple occasions, but banished that thought as soon as it came up. He wanted to keep those memories as clean as possible. 

 

The leather cuffs left just enough room to twist his wrists inside of them. “Try them.” He did. He pulled as hard as he could, the muscles in his arms flexing, but they wouldn’t break; and neither would the links between them. He had known it already. “Good.” 

 

Next came the cuffs on his ankles. Those were the hardest for him. The German placed both of his feet right in front of the rings on the floor, spreading his legs a little further than hip width apart; and Neil had to resist the urge to move them again. He swallowed and closed his eyes for a moment. “Too tight?” 

 

“Mm-mm.” He took a deep breath, then another. 

 

“I want you to try them, Christian.” Yes, yes, he knew. He needed to make sure they would hold so they could move on. But trying to break free would show him that he couldn’t, and that would already spike his anxiety. “Christian?” The German was still kneeling behind him. Neil inhaled deeply through his nose, then started to pull on the right one, then the left. He couldn’t even lift his feet off the ground. He gritted his teeth. “Good.” 

 

The man stood up again and placed a black blindfold over Neil’s eyes. He tied it close behind the younger man’s head. 

 

“Tighter,” Neil managed to rasp out. It would come loose if he struggled too much and then the other male had to step in again. A few of his black strands got caught in the knot but he didn’t complain. 

 

“Better?” He nodded. “Do you remember your safe words?” Another nod. “Out loud,” the older man ordered. 

 

“Fox and Raven.” He had no equivalent for green. He didn’t need one. It was all or nothing with him every time. If he ever got to the point where he absolutely couldn’t take it anymore the scene was beyond fixing. All he had to offer was a warning before getting there; and if they managed to salvage the situation after that… –well, actually, Neil had never used ‘fox’ during his struggles. He needed it to negotiate scenes with the German. ‘Raven’ was his way out, his panic button. They had discussed this on multiple occasions, but if Neil wouldn’t use a third safe word, then there was no point. 

 

Once before he had fainted during a scene and the German had sat him down afterwards and told him they were done if Neil didn’t take it more seriously. Settings like the one today could injure him. They were part of the older man’s fantasies and Neil tried to fulfill them. He knew his collar came with a panic-release. He couldn’t reach it, but the German could. 

 

“Take your time. Even if you can’t hear me, I’ll be here. Do you understand?”

 

“Yes.” 

 

“Are you ready?”

 

“Yes.” Having the earplugs put in was such a strange sensation. For a moment he felt disoriented, then Neil focused on the cuffs around his wrists and ankles, on distributing his weight evenly between his feet. He felt the need to move them already, to test the cuffs, to make sure they were really there; but at the same time he dreaded it, couldn’t bring himself to do it. His anxiety grew stronger with every passing minute. He could only remain still for so long and then he would need to move and it all would become very real all of the sudden, and his brain would be past making excuses. It took him less than two minutes this time to reach that point. 

 

It felt like he was losing his balance for a second. His whole body gave a jerk and he was nearly toppling over. He gasped and started twisting his hands. He could see nothing, heard only his own elevated breathing inside his head and his throat working as he swallowed. Sweat erupted on his forehead and temples, was tickling him as a drop ran down his neck, between his shoulder blades. 

 

And suddenly he was struggling in earnest. His knees hit the floor more than once, and Neil fought to get back onto his feet because he couldn’t stand the feeling to stay down there. He wanted to get away from here, to get out, to run, to scream. He did scream once. It echoed inside his head, an unarticulated sound of pure frustration. He didn’t speak, didn’t beg, didn’t bargain. There would have been no answer. He didn’t use the safe word. 

 

He couldn’t tell how long it took for his brain to switch gears. When it happened, it came as suddenly as his overwhelming anxiety had taken him. The fight went out of him and his knees hit the floor again; first one, then the other. He stayed down this time, sat down on his heels and felt the relief in the absence of panic. His head fell backwards a little, as if he was staring at the ceiling. It didn’t restrict his airflow too much that way and he slowly felt his muscles relax one after another. 

 

Neil had another minute in this quiet state before the German stepped in again and took the earplugs out. He didn’t speak to him immediately, just let him hear again and ran his fingers through Neil’s sweaty hair. Knowing what was expected of him, Neil leaned into the touch, his head lolling a bit. He took a deeper breath and then heard the voice of the man standing behind him. 

 

“You did good.” He was rewarded by gentle fingers running the back of their nails over his scalp. It gave him goosebumps. “Get up.” He might have been a bit slow to comply this time, but two hands grabbed his arms and helped lift him back up. He swayed a little on his feet, felt the man’s breath ghosting over his neck. “I’m going to fuck you now.” _Go ahead, I don’t care._ He couldn’t say it though. But even that was all right. 

 

He felt a hand grabbing his hip to keep him in place and the other one sliding those warm fingers between his cheeks, spreading them, before pressing two slippery fingertips into him. With any more tension in him it might have hurt. Now Neil just frowned a little and willed his body to relax further and ignore the intrusion. He had stretched himself out a little under the shower so this part would be over sooner. The man behind him was eager, aroused by his earlier struggles. 

 

Neil made no sound during his preparation. The German knew that Neil didn’t particularly enjoy sex, wasn’t usually vocal during intercourse, unless he needed to be to please a client. He could fake it pretty well, but between them it wasn’t necessary. Sometimes he did though. Sometimes his brain remembered his training and he did it without thinking about it. 

 

Practiced fingers stretched him and withdrew again. He felt the man detaching the rope from his collar, keeping him in place by gripping it instead. With his feet spread and unable to move, Neil had no choice but to wait. 

 

“Lean forward.” He bent at the hips and complied, feeling the man’s hard cock pressing into him at the same time. He choked a little, muscles flexing reflexively and heard the German groan in response behind him. Once he had sheathed himself all the way inside the younger man, the German began to move with slow and easy thrusts. It wouldn’t take him long to let go of his caution though, Neil knew from experience. A hand reached around him and grabbed his length, started stroking it until Neil too was fully erect. He gasped and the hand holding him by the collar pushed him forward, while the other pulled his hips back and started a punishing rhythm between the two of them. He barely managed to control his breathing.

 

The older man smirked knowingly as he hit Neil’s prostate with every thrust of his hips, coaxing a moan from the younger male. His hands knew every inch of Neil’s body, every scar, every sweet spot, and he ruthlessly made use of them. All Neil managed were choking sounds as the collar grew tighter around his neck and he reached his orgasm only seconds later. The man behind him followed after only a few more thrusts, suppressing a moan. Shuddering, he pulled Neil upright again and steadied him while they both came down from their heights, the younger one leaning back into the embrace, feeling the fabric of the pants and shirt, and smelling the aftershave the man had never changed since he knew him. 

 

When he was sure Neil would remain standing, the German let go of him and loosened the blindfold until he could slide it off. He left the younger man there for a moment to dispose of the condom and fix his clothes, before returning and starting to free Neil from his bonds in the reverse order he had used to bind him. When the collar came off, Neil turned around and faced him, let himself be checked over one final time. Curiously enough, they both hated aftercare and talking afterwards, as they long since had found out. Neil was told to feel free to use the bathroom to clean up with a nod in the direction of the door and accepted. The German left the room through the second door and they would both meet afterwards in the living room. That was their routine and both took care to follow it. Words would only be exchanged once again when they were both cleaned up and ready –unless something had happened and they were unable to finish the scene. Not tonight though. Tonight he offered Neil a drink, which the young man politely declined and then sent him on his way, knowing Neil wouldn’t let himself be taken home. 

 

“Until next time, Christian.” 

 

“Yes. Thank you.” 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

  
His pretend sick leave was coming to an end. Kevin called and told Andrew that Mathews expected the goalkeeper back on Monday, unless he could actually visit his hospital bedside. There was no reason to antagonize the man, especially now that Andrew’s situation with Neil had calmed down somewhat. So he told Kevin that he’d be there on Monday. His friend was still not over the fact that they had actually found Nathaniel Wesninski, and that it was the same boy they had wanted to recruit years ago. 

 

“Wanna hear a sad thing? –I could have made him Court.” There was anger hidden behind that sentence. “Not that you’d care.” And he didn’t. It didn't matter to him if Neil was as much of an Exy junky as Kevin was. Those two could mourn their lost hopes and dreams never going to come true and all that other bullshit. Life wasn't like that. They met regardless of all of that. The only thing he regretted was that he had let Neil go years ago, because he could have sorted all of this out sooner. 

 

“Kevin.” Andrew turned around on his bed. He wasn’t even up yet. His friend and his early morning training routine didn’t care much about it though. He should have left his phone turned off longer, Andrew thought. It annoyed the hell out of Kevin. His friend wanted to talk.

 

“Yeah?” 

 

“I want you to ask him to play with you. He can be your recovery practice dummy this time.” It was just another stepping stone in his ploy to keep Neil around. 

 

“Nathaniel? –I mean… I guess,” Kevin said and sounded reserved. It wasn’t entirely Neil’s fault, Andrew knew. Kevin was still struggling with doubts about his full recovery. –Not that he’d ever voiced them out loud. 

 

“Good. Keep that between the three of us.” 

 

“I’m not an idiot, Andrew,” his friend huffed. 

 

“I’m not so sure sometimes,” he yawned and hung up on his team captain. 

 

Getting Kevin and Neil together might not be a bad idea. Kevin wouldn’t harm the young man –apart from his ego and some bumps and bruises on the court– and Neil would have to learn that some parts of his past were not as he had thought them to be. One threat less might do him some good. Having someone to take over his extra training sessions with Kevin was nothing Andrew would complain about either. He started to really like the idea of those two getting along with each other. 

 

He brought them together the next evening when they all met at the goalkeeper’s apartment. Kevinbrought dinner after losing another discussion about eating habits with Andrew. Burgers, french fries, and –in Andrew’s case– milkshakes were not on his list of a balanced diet. Didn’t mean he wouldn’t eat them occasionally; and Andrew knew Kevin mostly wanted to complain to feel better about making an exception tonight. 

 

They sat down at Andrew’s breakfast bar and it was actually Neil who picked up on Kevin’s persistent worry about his goalkeeper’s future. Kevin had been dropping hints and questions about the whole incident with the injured player –which Andrew had dodged and ignored, partly to annoy his friend, partly because the outcome hadn’t been sure. Or maybe it was Neil’s curiosity that made him ask straightforward what Kevin had given up on earlier. 

 

“So, what actually happened to that lawsuit? I mean… you’re not actually going to jail, are you?” 

 

Andrew looked up from his food and met two curious looking pairs of eyes staring back at him. He couldn’t dodge the question now, could he? If this was Neil asking him if he would be around in the future while the young man was deciding if he should take the risk to stay, Andrew couldn’t withhold the details from him. Well, too bad. He would have liked to annoy Kevin a little while longer. The striker stopped chewing and waited for his answer. Andrew wiped his fingers on a napkin. 

 

“You think I’m that stupid?”

 

“I don’t think it’s a matter of stupidity,” Neil answered, chin resting on his palm, currently disinterested in his own food. “Why? What am I missing?” 

 

“I didn’t know you had any details to begin with,” Andrew shot him down and took another bite of his burger. Kevin remained wisely silent for the time being. He already knew Andrew wouldn’t answer his questions, so Neil was his best shot. 

 

“I don’t,” the backliner admitted. “But since you don’t seem worried, why don’t you tell us? You do know the outcome already, right? I didn’t know lying by omission was your thing.” Andrew tsk’ed at him. 

 

“Aren’t you trying to be clever?”

 

“Maybe?” Neil looked over at Kevin. “I don’t see the point of making your friends worry needlessly though. So why don’t you just tell us?” _Siding with him already?_ Andrew smirked a little, though both Kevin and Neil mistook his reason for it. 

 

“Did you know there were no witnesses?” Andrew asked.

 

“Yes,” Neil nodded. That had been public information. 

 

“But you didn’t know there is a video from one of the surveillance cameras outside the stadium.” That they hadn’t known, so Andrew went on, “Well, not so easy to make a case if the alleged victim is seen attacking the accused on camera after being insulted. Even better if the following fight happened off screen after the victim pushed them outside of the camera’s range.” Andrew shrugged. “Could have been self-defense.” 

 

“You knew there was a camera and you attacked him anyway?” Kevin blurted out now angrily. 

 

“No, I attacked him _because_ there were cameras, Kevin. Try to keep up, would you? He came at me first.”

 

“But you made him. And with your history…” 

 

“It was a calculated risk,” Andrew argued, but Kevin remained unconvinced. 

 

“So, your lawyer made a deal,” Neil brought the conversation back on track. 

 

“He did.” Andrew stole a french fry from Kevin’s plate, who shot him a dirty look. 

 

“And?” The striker asked. 

 

“Three months of anger-management therapy, plus some money.” ‘Some money’, they knew, must have been an awful lot. 

 

Kevin snorted and choked on his threatening laughter. He tried to hide it behind a faked cough but failed miserably. “Never thought the day would come,” he grinned, “anger-management…”

 

“Why, Kevin, you hurt my feelings.” Andrew sounded as bored as he had before. 

 

“So you are finally admitting to having those?” Kevin challenged. 

 

Andrew cocked his head sideways and stared at his friend. It was a disturbing look, and Neil thought it would make most people squirm in their seats. Most people but not Kevin Day, who was clearly used to it after years of exposure. 

 

 

Neil watched them both with interest. Kevin was a little different than he had imagined his Exy idol –yet another one of those. He had been so arrogant at the stadium, almost hostile even. But once he got comfortable in your presence, he seemed to be a nice guy. And he got along with Andrew on equal grounds, bantering with him, teasing. _Kinda cute_ , Neil thought and smiled. 

 

“Nathaniel.” He blinked. Being called that name by Kevin almost made him flinch. He frowned a little but Kevin didn’t seem to notice.

 

“Hm?” He took another fry. Kevin looked at him and chose his words carefully. 

 

“So… When I get cleared for practice again…” ‘ _When_ ’, Neil noticed, not ‘ _if_ ’, it made his Exy fan heart pound with joy. Kevin Day would return to the team and play again. “do you want to join me for some extra practice? Unofficially. Andrew tells me you would like to play more.” Neil’s eyes widened and he shot Andrew a look. The goalkeeper ignored him. Practice… with Kevin Day. He swallowed. Kevin mistook his excitement for fear and added, “We would keep it off the record, no one has to know. We can have the stadium to ourselves for some hours.” 

 

“I’d like that!” Neil blurted out. He couldn’t help himself, didn’t think about it at that moment. All he could think of was playing Exy with Kevin Day at the U.S. national stadium. Holy. Shit. Kevin blinked at him, then smiled over the sudden outburst of honest excitement. Even Andrew was pleased. The striker could tell by the way the goalkeeper strategically placed an elbow onto the table between himself and Neil to rest his chin on, hiding those almost imperceptible dimples that signaled the beginning of a smile forming on those unpracticed lips. But Kevin could see them from his spot across the table. 

 

“Well, good. It might take a while though,” Kevin said, offering details he kept hidden from the press. His recovery was a slow one, still a little uncertain even, but he left that detail out of the picture. 

 

“I think I’m not the only one who’s just glad that you will play again,” Neil replied and Kevin’s smile grew a little. 

 

“Thanks.” His phone buzzed and he pulled it out of his pocket. “That’s Allison. I gotta go. Talk to you later?” He got up and put his jacket on. “And Andrew!” He pointed an accusing finger at the goalkeeper, who took a noisy drag from his almost empty milkshake in reply. “Pick up your phone when I call you. The shit I do for you! Coach almost ripped my head off when you went missing. Don’t make me lie for you.” The blonde only raised an eyebrow at him, silently asking ‘Who made you do that?’ and Kevin sighed and gave up. He waved at them and left. 

 

“I should get going too,” Neil said and began to clean up the remainder of their dinner. 

 

“Or you could stay,” Andrew replied, not getting up to help. Seemed to Neil the goalkeeper would rather keep an eye on him, especially with their volatile relationship, might it be business or otherwise, and the fact that Neil still hadn’t decided yet what he should do. There was also the matter of his apartment. The four boxes remained packed and were waiting to be taken to a new place, since he had given notice to quit his studio. 

 

It was an awkward situation for both of them. Andrew hadn’t touched him since Baltimore, giving Neil space to figure out what he wanted, but the dark-haired man could tell he wanted to. And if he was honest with himself, Neil wanted them to go back to what they had shared, but couldn’t bring himself to say it yet. Not if he didn’t know where he would be when he had to leave after all. 

 

“I can’t. I have to find a new place.” Andrew looked at him as if trying to figure out what to say. In the end, he didn't say anything but took something from his pocket and held his hand out to Neil. “Hm?” Neil took it. It was a key, the key to this apartment, he realized. 

 

“I can’t,” was the first thing out of his mouth. 

 

“Move in with me,” Andrew told him. 

 

“Andrew–“

 

“Just do it.” And Neil understood that this was as close as Andrew would come to pleading. So unlike anyone else, voice somewhere between boredom and annoyance. He wouldn't beg. He would bargain for it and make promises, but he wouldn't plead. Still, Neil understood that it was important to him. 

 

And it wasn’t such a terrible idea, really. He was sure they could make it work, as long as Andrew kept his word and allowed him to set the pace. 

 

“Then stop paying me.” Andrew frowned and Neil stared back. This would only work if they stood on equal ground. He would be no ones pet. 

 

“You want to starve?” Andrew raised an eyebrow at him. 

 

“I have some money saved up. It will be enough.” Meaning he would stay here –with Andrew. He had to take a slow breath as he looked at the key in his hand. 

 

“There’s another thing,” he told the goalkeeper. 

 

“You’ve got an awful lot of conditions.” So far he hadn't rejected any of them. Well, this would be the hard part for him. 

 

“If we do this, we are going to take care of your issues. All of them, starting with the not talking part.” Neil looked him in the eye, and when he saw Andrew turning away, looking at the windows instead, he reached out and touched his chin to turn him back. “Yes or no?” _C’mon, I know you wanted that from the beginning. It’s the reason you came to me. Me telling you to do it doesn't change anything._ “We can make this work,” Neil told him when Andrew hesitated. “I promise.” 

 

“Don’t promise things you can’t keep,” the Exy player said coldly. 

 

“I can. That’s the deal, Andrew. Take it or leave it.” He felt Andrew pulling away again and did the only thing he could. He leaned in and kissed him, hard, unapologetically. “Yes or no,” he whispered against his lips, their foreheads touching. 

 

“Yes.” Neil smiled and kissed him again. 

 

“I hate you,” Andrew growled into the kiss. 

 

“I know. You keep telling me.” Neil smiled crookedly. “I still kinda like you.” 

 

 

 

**End of part one**

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¹Translation Notes:  
> “Thank you. I’ll be waiting outside.”  
> “Don’t worry, I’ll find you.” 
> 
> ²“Fox and Raven” –undoubtedly you know the true meaning behind those safe words. The explanation Neil gave when choosing them for the first time was him remembering his German lessons, when the teacher taught them the fable of The Fox and the Raven - a popular one, telling the tale of the sly fox playing a trick on the raven’s vanity to steal his food. The moral of the story is “Pride goes before a fall.” Befitting for the TFC trilogy, but in this case it has not the same meaning for Neil, since he has never joined the team. The team names are his reminder of what he has lost and risked, of how continuing to play Exy in high school nearly cost him everything when the Foxes came to recruit him. Little did he know back then…
> 
>  
> 
> Neil and the German switch to the older man’s native tongue during the scene. For reading conveniences I’ve left the dialogue in English.
> 
>  
> 
> ________________________________________________________________________________________
> 
> And here we are. You've made it. I'm proud of you! If you enjoyed LNTYCM, feel free to leave me a comment. I'd love to hear your thoughts! 
> 
>  
> 
> Since I already received some questions: 
> 
> **Will there be a part two?** Yes, there will be a part two of this story at some point. I want to finish another project first, but I am planning to continue Andreil's journey together. I had fun writing this, and there is still lots to explore. 
> 
> **Will we meet other Foxes?** It's possible. I have nothing planed so far. 
> 
> **Will we meet Riko?** Riko will remain in Japan for the time being. I have to say, I like him, but this isn't his story. 
> 
> **Kevin &Kandreil?** Yes&(Yes) - Kevin will stick around, and after giving it some thought, Kandreil will be a part of the future development of this story, although an optional one. No need to worry, the Kandreil parts will take place in extra chapters you can skip, if you then choose to do so. 
> 
> I'll be happy to answer any other questions you might have, either here, or if you like to chat with me, find me on tumblr.
> 
> ♥︎I'm so lucky to have such a kind and patient beta for this story! She put so much effort into this, putting up with my personal war against the English comma placement (not to mention every "had" that didn't belong anywhere! it appears I'm deeply in love with the past perfect tense in German... I'm so sorry! it must have annoyed the hell out of you! You are the best! ♥︎ )
> 
> Once again Thank You for reading my first AFTG fanfic.


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